12 days of Christmas - Klaine advent 2019
by BlurtItAllOut
Summary: Kurt visits his family for Christmas for 12 days. These are 24 glimpses into the celebration, a very Hallmark Klainemas.
1. Achievement

December 21st – part 1

* * *

"Merry Christmas, Kurt" Carole murmurs in his ear, and Kurt tightens his arms around her a little extra. He's missed her hugs. He's missed her, period.

"Thank you for picking me up. I could have taken a taxi, I told you."

"I know," she says, and steps back, arms on his shoulders, as if she needs to take him in properly. It hasn't been that long since they saw each other. When was it, that weekend back home in New York, when he'd gotten tickets for Carole and his dad to see him on stage in his first true, big, real, honest to gods Broadway production? Late September? Early October? "But I don't mind seeing you that much sooner. Besides, you're going to be a big star, you need to get used to having a private chauffeur" she winks at him, and Kurt can't stop the giggles.

"Well, this star has been sitting immobile on a train for almost three hours and is awfully hungry. When will Dad be home from work?"

Carole squeezes his shoulders, before dropping her arms and takes a hold of one of his suitcases.

"I hope it won't be too late, but they have a lot to wrap up before Christmas," she says and begins to walk. "He was hoping to finish as much as possible of the paperwork with deadlines before the new year, so he can stay home throughout Christmas with us. He told us not to count him in for dinner today. We can call in an order for Chinese from one of the places closer to home, so it'll be ready to pick up by the time we get there?"

"Sounds great, Carole" Kurt agrees, following her with his other suitcase and a bag. Limiting his luggage to something manageable for two hands was quite the achievement considering he's staying for 12 days. If he'd waited to buy all the Christmas presents until he came to Washington it might have given him less to carry, but it was easier to do the shopping in New York where he knew the streets, stores and malls. According to his original plan, he would have arrived in Washington much closer to Christmas, giving him almost no time for any present purchases. But a draw of luck, or bad luck, made it possible for him to leave New York a little earlier. The last few performances of the year had to be cancelled, because the rotating scene in the theatre had stopped rotating. An electrician had looked at it all yesterday, without finding a solution to why the scene was jammed. Fortunately, it had happened during rehearsals, and not in the middle of a performance. But it was impossible to go on, the scenography and stage setup were created with the rotating scene as foundation, so instead of improvising a solution their director had this morning decided to give them all an early Christmas vacation, hoping the technical snafu would be solved in time for their first performance in the new year on January 2nd. Kurt won't complain about the extra days with his family, even if he was still psyched about being on a true Broadway stage, and not quite ready to let go of that yet, not even for a break. Packing in record speed put him on an express train, and even if his dad still has work, he'll still get to see more of him like this.

"Have you finished decorating the house for Christmas?" Kurt asks Carole.

"No" she grins at him, "Well, the lights outside have been up for a while, of course. But the inside of the house is still more Thanksgiving than Christmas. I was going to do most of it this weekend and save the best for when you would be here. But now you get to help me with all of it. Including the washing" she smirks, and Kurt laughs.

"As long as I get to help out with the cooking and baking too. I miss having a proper kitchen" he says, thinking about his small apartment in New York. Just because he finally got a proper role doesn't mean he's swimming in dollars and lives upscale. At least not yet. But maybe if he's sensible with his pay checks he can save up and live somewhere better this time next year. Somewhere with a full stove and enough counter space to do some true cooking. He misses it as a stress reliever, he misses homemade food, and his wallet is muttering about all the takeout he ends up eating. He is living the dream, but that doesn't mean things are perfect.

"Are you okay?" Carole asks softly, and takes the eyes off of the road for a quick moment to look caringly at Kurt.

"I am," he assures her, patting her hand on the gear stick. "Heart is mended, anger faded, and all that jazz. I miss our apartment more than I miss him," he chuckles.

"I'm glad. So you're ready to move on?"

"I have moved on," Kurt nods determinedly.

"Oh Kurt!" Carole beams, "you haven't told us, have you met someone?"

Kurt blushes, because even if Carole isn't his biological mother, there are still aspects in his life he hasn't addressed in their weekly Skype calls.

"Umm, no," he murmurs, feeling the heat explode in his cheeks. "There's been a few mediocre first dates, some flirting, nothing serious."

"A rebound to get it out of the system?" Carole asks bluntly, and Kurt's entire face gets impossibly hotter. She playfully elbows him, and he laughs awkwardly.

"Oh my gods," he mutters. And then, precisely because Carole isn't his biological mother and hovers in that resourceful space between friend and family: "Yes."

"Well, knowing your dad, I have to ask: You're being careful?"

"This isn't something I ever want to tell my dad, you know. He once told me sex was a nice gift for when I turn 30. That's still six years away."

"We just want you to be happy. And safe."

"I am. And I am, always." With the miniscule amount of sex-education they had at McKinley, and obviously even less in terms of gay sex, moving to New York was a crash course in safe sex. He had to learn it the hard way, catching something extra-extra from his first boyfriend. Thank goodness it had been harmless and easy to treat with medication, but he used the lesson to read up on all and everything, and shed his naïve illusions that he could be safe with a new boyfriend, and that condoms for blowjobs only went along with hook ups. After that he's been adamant about protection.

"Good," Carole nods. "So. Was he hot?"

Taken entirely by surprise, Kurt laughs a little hysterically, hiding his face behind his ten fingers.

"Yes. So hot, and so dumb. The perfect rebound."

"Been there, done that," Carole giggles, and it takes them almost ten minutes to stop laughing and make the phone call to order dinner.


	2. Beer

December 21st – part 2

* * *

Kurt wraps his arms around his midriff, staring out of the window, and takes in all the Christmas lights he can see on the neighbour houses and in their gardens. Houses with people he has no idea who are. It still feels new and strange that this is what it means to come home to his dad. How can something be home, and still feel so alien?

"Beer?" Burt asks from behind him, and Kurt turns around. He takes in the sight of his dad, now out of his congress office-suit, and instead wearing loose jeans, a plaid shirt, and one of his familiar ball caps. At least something still looks and feels like home.

"Thank you," Kurt nods, and accepts the cold bottle from his father. He still doesn't particularly favour the flavour, but it gives him something to hold and keeps his hands busy. Besides, it's become a treasured ritual, sharing a single beer with his dad over meaningful conversations.

It started on the day after his 21st birthday, when Burt gave him his first official legal drink, and they'd sat down to have a proper talk about their future. Burt had announced his desire to sell the house in Lima and move to Washington to better focus on his duties in Congress. It would also lessen the distance between father and son, making it easier to meet more often within their respective busy schedules. Kurt had been hesitant at first, because the house in Lima provided him with an anchor, a possibility to come home to old friends and family. What would happen if he didn't have the family home in Lima? Would he find time to visit both Washington and Lima? But then he thought properly about it and realized he didn't really have much left in Lima. Most of his friends lived spread out over the entire country, and sure, they'd meet up in Lima over Christmas or summer, but there were solutions to that. Rachel's dads had moved to Florida, so she couch-surfed whenever the old Glee club got together. Puck also had the habit of borrowing a mattress here and there, depending on his relationship with his mom at the time. Kurt could do the same. Maybe they could meet in other places too. Five of them were living in New York, maybe one of the New Direction-reunions could be hosted there?

When Burt got to the bottom of his bottle, he confessed that the move was also in big parts for the sake of Carole. It was hard for her to be in Lima, watching life go on as if nothing out of the usual had happened, as if she hadn't so tragically lost her son. And that had been the final push for Kurt. Even if he might want to go back for short visits, he could very well relate to the need to get out of Lima. For a second he had frozen in fear, thinking they'd also be leaving his mom behind. But he quickly realized that she had been with him every single day in New York so far during his three years there. They didn't need the cemetery to keep the memories of Elizabeth Hummel in their hearts. So Carole quit her job, they sold the house, the garage was leased to Burt's most trusted employee so he still had a business to return to whenever his Congress days ended, and they bought a red bricked house close to Fort Circle Park. Carole had eventually found a part-time job as a nurse doing night shifts, but also spent a lot of time doing charity work for cases near and dear to the Hummel's. Being a senator's wife gave some influence and pull.

That was three years ago, and the house in Adrian Street is quiet tonight. Carole is off working, and it's just the two Hummel men sipping quietly at their beers. Kurt's two suitcases and one bag are diligently unpacked in the guest room, and Carole and he had made a quick schedule for how to finish Christmas preparations together the next days. He knows she'll sleep in tomorrow after a night at work, and he has plans of scrubbing the bath and kitchen silently when he gets up in the morning. Just because they said they'd do it together doesn't mean he can't surprise her by doing some of the boring tasks ahead. He'd rather spend quality time together with Carole while making cookies than washing the ceiling in separate rooms. It's not that the house is in dire need of a hosing down, but both he and Carole have always enjoyed the feeling of an entirely clean house, top to bottom, before decorating it for Christmas. Knowing that there isn't a speck of dust or any wayward dust bunnies makes it all so much rewarding to relax entirely for Christmas, indulge in great food and lots of laziness.

Father and son converse quietly over beer, and then over hot milk with nutmeg, while updating the other on their lives, talking deeper and also with more nonsense than Skype calls give opportunities for.

"Maybe I should have had a look at it," Burt muses, after Kurt's told him more about the malfunctioned rotating stage. "Maybe the problem is more mechanical than electric."

"An engine is an engine?" Kurt laughs dryly.

"Hey, you never know!"

"I'm sure you could have fixed it," Kurt smiles. "But I'd rather be here with you for a few extra days."

"I'll toast to that," Burt says, and lifts his chipped and faded World's Greatest Dad-mug to clink against Kurt's festive Rudolf-mug with a candy cane-handle.

Even after three years, the house on Adrian Street in Washington may not feel entirely like home yet. But this, quiet conversation with his dad over a hot beverage, will never not tuck at Kurt's heartstrings. Maybe it's the season, but he feels maudlin, and a few clichés run through his brain. Home is where the heart is. A home is not a place, it is its people. A good home is made, not bought. Kurt laughs a little at his own sentimentality, but is interrupted by a scratching noise on the terrace door.

"What the hell?" he splutters, almost upending his half-full mug in his lap.

"That must be Egot," Burt calmly states, and gets up from the recliner. "He keeps finding passages in the hedge to come visit. Carole spoils him too much," he mumbles as he opens the terrace door. In catapults a barking whirlwind, heading straight for the kitchen. "Yeah, yeah, boy, I know Carole keeps your treats there," Burt chuckles, and hurries after what Kurt now is fairly certain is a dog. "One cookie, that's it, I can't have that conversation with Mr. C about your waistline again, you know."

Kurt snorts at the interaction. It sounds as if Carole isn't the only one spoiling this dog. He joins them in the kitchen, only to see a long-coated dog sit on its hindlegs on one of the bar stools, happily observing Burt rummaging through the cupboard for the dog treats. If Kurt isn't entirely mistaken, it's a Cocker Spaniel. At least it looks like the Lady, even if the Tramp isn't around. Kurt quickly looks back into the living room to make sure his father closed the terrace door. Just in case.

"He belongs to the neighbour," Burt explains to Kurt. Ah, he, so more of a Lord than a Lady, then. "Single guy, not a lot of family, got lonely, and bought this one. Upstanding fella, we've worked a little together, and had him over for dinner a couple of times. He's a lobbyist and spokesperson, more passionate than smart, but he's got his head placed on a good set of shoulders. But sometimes he forgets to let this one in again, so little Egot comes over to us to be escorted home, don't you buddy?" Burt murmurs with a silly voice to the dog. Kurt briefly wonders how his dad would be as a grandfather. He hopes they both get to find that out.

"Okay, you got your evening snack, now it's time to get you back home. I'll only be a minute," Burt says to Kurt as he lifts Egot down from the tall stool. The black Spaniel trots over to Kurt, sniffs his feet, and sits down when Kurt squats down to pet him. The dog's tail makes a repeating thumping sound against the hardwood floors in joy from begin scratched behind its ears.

"Come on, buddy, I'll take you home to your… Whatever he is. Master? Slave? Papa? Big brother?"

The dog follows Burt with a wagging tail out to the hall where Burt puts on winter boots, a warm jacket and his scarf. The ball cap is still on top of his head, though. Kurt smiles at the sight, until his stomach rumbles in annoyance and reminds him it's been quite some time since he had Chinese with Carole. An evening snack doesn't sound like such a bad idea, Egot obviously was up to something clever there. Kurt quickly scans the content of the fridge, before deciding on grilled cheese. He hasn't had melted cheese in months, but he can take a break from thinking about tight costumes for now.


	3. Creed

December 22nd – part 1

* * *

"There is a thing as too much Christmas music, isn't it?" Carole asks hesitantly, but Kurt instantly agrees.

"Yes! Definitely."

Carole makes a show of exhaling exaggeratedly and goes over to the radio to change from the Christmas music 24/7-channel to something else. Knowing her, she'll find some good old rock. Kurt doesn't mind. They've been at it for hours, cleaning and tidying the entire house, with the radio station as a constant background. Burt and Carole hadn't needed such a big house in their twosomeness, but they fell in love with it, and were just happy to have a bedroom and bath for Kurt when he visits. Carole wasn't quite ready to give up gardening as a hobby yet, but Kurt knows she and Burt have been talking about moving into an apartment with less maintenance when they get old. Fortunately that's still at least 30-40 years away, Kurt thinks stubbornly. He doesn't like it when they talk about retirement. He'd rather think of his family as healthy, active and working, rather than old and with declining health. But Burt's last health check came back with no concern, and Carole seems more perky than Kurt feels after their marathon-washing.

"Lunch?" Carole asks when she's finally satisfied with the chosen radio channel.

"Or dinner, for those of us without vampire schedules," he teases. Carole walks over to him, and wraps him up in a hug.

"If I didn't say it: Thank you for cleaning the kitchen while I slept."

She's already said it, she'd been surprised and delighted when she woke up to a sparkling kitchen and fresh coffee in the pot.

"I meant to do the bathroom too, but I slept in," Kurt apologizes.

"You're on vacation. You're supposed to rest before you have to return to all your dancing, singing and running all over that big stage."

"Yeah, because your line of work has no physical demands at all, I'm sure," he drawls.

Carole just hugs him tighter.

"You're our star; we have to take good care of you."

"I'm just as human as the next Joe, putting on my pants one foot at the time," Kurt snorts. "I really don't see why I need or deserve any special treatment, just because I have a peculiar job without any regular office hours," he winks.

"If you say so – but as your family we're still entitled to spoil you a little. How do you feel about salmon? I haven't had fish in ages, and took some out of the freezer when I came home from work this morning."

"Will dad join us for dinner?" Kurt asks, knowing very well his dad's aversion to salmon.

"Oh, you're right, I better call him and check."

It's a good thing she did, because it turns out Burt was about to call her and let her know they would have a guest over for dinner. Carole had taken the news with the patience of a senator wife used to sudden decisions and a constant need to focus on networking and social mingling for the cause.

"So we'll be an extra head by the table, and dinner is postponed until eight," Carole informs Kurt. "A quick snack before we figure out the menu? It's just the neighbour, so the dinner is informal, but we don't have enough salmon for four people."

"Which means the two of us can have the salmon now," Kurt wiggles his eyebrows. He had gotten quite set on the idea of salmon now and can almost taste it already. He's already scrolling through his phone to look for inspiration. He stops when he finds the recipe for a Mediterranean salmon salad with cucumber, olives, tomatoes, avocado and feta cheese with a lemon herb dressing. "I think my tummy wants this," he says, and shows Carole the screen. She quickly scans the ingredients.

"I can't imagine you'll find any olives in this household, but the rest we should have."

"That's okay," Kurt nods, "I can use some red onion for that little zing instead."

"Do you mind fixing us those salads while I rummage the freezer to figure out dinner?"

Kurt shoos her off, cranks up the volume on the radio, and slides on his socks to the kitchen while humming along to _Old Time Rock'n Roll_.

The salmon filets are sizzling in the pan, and the rest of the ingredients are placed in two deep dishes, when Carole returns with a lump of unidentified meat. Kurt whisks the lemon herb dressing, and asks with a nod to the frozen item to find out what dinner will be.

"I found minced meat, so we'll have lasagne. It'll be something different than our upcoming Christmas dinners, and the neighbour's been over several times. He's not exactly high maintenance, poor guy doesn't get homemade food often. I'll save the posh escargots and whatnots for when Burt has more prominent guests," Carole chuckles.

"I met his dog last night. Burt took Egot home after he got his treat. Funny name for a dog," Kurt muses.

"Burt spoils that dog," Carole sighs. "Ooh, I love this song!" she interrupts herself as a familiar intro begins on the radio, and as if rehearsed Kurt slides the salmon pan off the burner and turns around to sing to her.

"_Well I just heard the news today, it seems my life is gonna change._" He takes her hand, spins her, and continues with a classic waltz pose, leading her around the kitchen to the song. They sing the chorus together.

"_With arms wide open under the sunlight, welcome to this place, I'll show you everything._"

They waltz until the song ends, laughing until they are teary-eyed.

"Christopher loved that song, and would sing it loudly in the car with Finn…"

Kurt pulls her into a hug, which lasts until her stomach rumbles.

"Okay, let's eat, and then I'm declaring this house spotless and ready to be properly decorated for Christmas," Carole sniffs. Kurt slides his hands down along her arms, squeezes her fingers briefly, before turning back to the stove to check on the salmon and finish the dressing.

"Wanna be wild and have a glass of white wine to the fish?" he asks while whisking vigorously. Carole's lack of response forces him to turn his head to look at her. She's looking at him oddly. "What?"

"It's just… I don't think you've asked for wine before. You're a grown up!"

"Just wait until it's cookie-time, that'll bring out my inner child," he winks.

* * *

_**Author's note: So, for those looking fruitlessly for my use of today's advent word (Creed), I have to admit I didn't use it directly - rather it's used quite subtly, as the song Carole and Kurt dance to isa song by Creed. But I didn't manage to incorporate that fact into their dialogue without it sounding forced.**_


	4. Date

December 22nd – part 2

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" a strange voice yells amusedly from the hallway, luring Kurt to leave the kitchen and see who just entered the house. He's blocked in the living room by a furry tornado, and picks up an excited Egot.

"Aren't you just the most adorable thing?" Kurt coos, and pets the wiggly dog until it calms down in his arms. It's probably impolite to greet the dog before he welcomes their guest, but who can resist that face? He hears murmured voices greeting each other in the background, and buries his face in the dog's soft coat.

"Egot, are you already flirting with the neighbours?" a joyful voice beams, and Kurt has the distinct feeling he's heard it before, but can't place it. He looks up from behind the dog, and almost drops Egot when he realizes who his dad has invited for dinner. Who apparently is living next door. His arms go limp, and Egot decides to jump down on his own initiative.

"You must be Kurt, your folks can't stop talking about you," Hollywood-actor and LGBTQ-spokesperson Cooper Anderson grins, and steps over to Kurt in a few long strides, offering his hand to shake.

"Enchanté…" Kurt murmurs hoarsely, but manages to take Mr. Anderson's hand in his. He'll never wash his hand ever again! "It's an honour to meet you."

"Aww, you're too cute. Are you a fan? I thought we could talk shop, it's not often I have dinner with an upcoming Broadway star."

Kurt realizes he's still shaking Cooper Fucking Anderson's hand, and quickly lets go of it.

"I'm not… I'm nothing… I'd be honoured to… Do I smell something burned? Yes, yes, something, kitchen, food, excuse me!" he stutters and hurries away with his imaginary tail tucked between his legs. He can hear the Hollywood-star sniff loudly behind him.

"I only smell amazing cooking. I'm not a medic, but I played in a movie where a guy could smell stuff no one else could smell, so the doctor thought he was having a stroke, while in reality he was a werewolf. Is he having a stroke?" he asks Burt.

"Probably," Burt huffs, and Carole shakes her head. "I'll just go and see if Kurt needs any help," she says

"Carole, my favourite nurse, you go and tend to that young man, he'll be safe then," Cooper says charmingly, and kisses Carole's hand.

"I take it you're still a whiskey man?" Kurt can hear his father ask his guest, and Cooper's enthusiastic "you know it!"

"Kurt?" Carole laughs silently at him.

"You didn't tell me your frequent dinner guest is North America's hottest man, the famous Hollywood-actor and passionate advocate for gay right, Cooper Holy Shit Anderson!" Kurt hisses, doing his best at sounding indignant without revealing it to said actor. He's pressing a cold, wet towel against his burning face.

"I'm sure Cooper also puts his pants on one leg at the time," Carole winks, and Kurt hates that she uses his own words against him.

"You're having way too much fun with this."

"I honestly think your dad forgot to tell you, you know he's not so fussed about celebrities anymore, not after working here for so long."

"Unless they are football players," Kurt mutters petulantly behind the towel, thinking back to a phone call where his dad ranted about meeting some kicker Kurt couldn't care less about.

"Unless they are football players," Carole smiles. "And we've spent so much time with Cooper that he's just the neighbour by now, a neighbour that Burt happens to work with now and then. But yes, I was excited to see your face when you would figure it out," she bumps her hip against his to get him moving away from the stove with the lasagne. "I'll accept this as my Christmas gift this year," she winks.

Evil, evil step-mothers…

Kurt inhales deeply, focuses on his breath, mentally does some yoga-exercises, and wills his flushed cheeks to calm the heck down.

"Will you bring the salad?" Carole grins at him, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

Yes, Kurt thinks, that should be manageable. Probably. Hopefully. Better have something to keep his hands occupied and mind focused, maybe he'll avoid humiliating himself any further.

The four sit down around the dining table, and Cooper gushes about Carole's cooking.

"You'll have to thank Kurt too. We've been an excellent team in the kitchen today."

"Well, then I toast to great food, even greater chefs, and the greatest company," Cooper beams, and raises his water glass in toast.

"So what are your plans for Christmas?" Burt asks their neighbour.

"Oh, I get so sad thinking about you all alone. You are welcome to celebrate with us," Carole interjects. Kurt wonders if he should kick Carole's shin under the table, because someone like Cooper probably has a lot of famous friends and a wide range of party invitations to choose from. But he doesn't, because he could probably just about endure celebrating Christmas with Cooper Anderson.

"Aww…" Cooper rests an open palm over his heart. "Thank you, you're too sweet. But I won't be alone, I have a very special guest coming to my place for Christmas this year, and I'm so excited for some quality time together, it's been too long."

"Good to hear," Burt nods. "We're going to one of the tree farms tomorrow to pick out the Christmas bush of the year. Do you wanna tag along?"

"I'd love to. When were you thinking about going?"

"Would right after breakfast work? It'd be nice to take advantage of the daylight, when I have a day off from work."

"I have to pick my guest up at the airport at 1. Could we maybe say after lunch?"

"Of course, not a problem. We have to help a neighbour out – I know your car isn't exactly built to transport huge trees," Burt smiles.

"Then consider it a date," Cooper grins. "And you'll finally get to meet my baby brother!"


	5. Emergency

December 23rd – part 1

* * *

Blaine tries to hide a ninja-jawn behind his shoulder while hauling his second heavy luggage off of the belt at baggage claim. He flips it over on the trolley. Only one more, and then he can leave. He can feel his phone vibrate repeatedly against his thigh, and bets it's Cooper with yet an endless tirade of messages of the hurry up-variety.

The last luggage is bright purple and brand new, so it should be easy to spot among all the items on the belt. The flight from LAX was packed to the brim, but fortunately Blaine got a window seat so he could sleep resting against the wall rather than hunched over – or worse, leaning on a stranger. Not that it qualifies as quality sleep, but at least it'll help him for a few more hours before making it an early night.

Finally, there his purple masterpiece is, and within soon he's headed for the arrivals area to find his brother. Who knows what'll greet him, if it's his brother in a ridiculous camouflage thinking it helps him fly under the papa-radar, or if he's brought a marching band just like Marshall did for Lily.

What greets him is a man with an awful Santa-mask holding up a cardboard with SQUIRT in black block letters and more glitter than a Mardis Gras-party. Shaking his head in amusement, Blaine rolls the trolley over to his brother.

"It's good to see you, baby brother. You look like shit," he says, and wraps him in a tight hug. Blaine feels the poster against his back, and wonders if the glitter will ever come out of his coat.

"Gee, thank you. Lead me to the nearest coffee, and I'll at least feel better than I look."

"No time, we have places to be and people to see."

"Djeezes, what's the emergency, Coop? I just got out of a red eye, I doubt I'm up to much more today," he says, sounding as cranky as he feels.

"I promise it'll be worth it, Blaine. We'll get coffee, but not here, the queues are endless and the brew tastes like goat piss. I have a thermos in the car."

"You're actually kind of wonderful," Blaine hums in regret, and hopes the car is parked really close by.

"Merry Christmas," Cooper murmurs, and hugs his little brother once more. "Do you want me to push the trolley?"

"Happy holiday," Blaine murmurs back. "And no, thanks, I think I need it for support."

"To the Coopmobile!" Cooper announces loudly and slings an arm around his neck.

While Blaine streamlines the coffee, Cooper talks non-stop about everything and nothing, keeping up a monologue about his latest campaign against one of Donald Trump's insane ideas of allowing workplace discrimination, then he offers suggestions for Christmas dinner, shares updates about his planned New Year's Party, gushes about Egot, and flips from one topic to the next hardly catching his breath.

"We can talk about it," Blaine bravely says when Cooper at last has to sneeze. "Why I'm here, I mean."

"You're here to celebrate Christmas with me."

"We both know that's not even half the truth."

"I know. I just… Are you happy?"

Blaine takes a moment to actually think about it.

"I hope I will be. I can't have done all this madness for nothing?" He's again doubting his own decisions.

"Hey…" Cooper says gently, and squeezes his shaking knee. "You were unhappy. We'll get you to happy again. And this is the first destination for that particular journey," he says and kills the engine.

Cooper had adamantly refused to tell where they were going, when Blaine noticed they weren't driving to Cooper's house. He looks at the surroundings of the car parked, sees the farm buildings, the welcome-sign, the temporary parking lot marked with hay balls, the lit torches, the scattered groups of people, and the large amount of trees.

"Are we getting a Christmas tree?" Blaine asks carefully, not daring to get excited yet.

Cooper grins.

"A true, proper Christmas tree, with real scent and lots of decorations?"

Cooper grins wider.

"Christmas is going to be amazing," Blaine sighs.

The brothers step out of the car, and Cooper steers them in the direction of a small group of people. In danger of stereotyping, but they don't strike Blaine as farmers running this place, they are too well dressed to be working with trees.

"Blaine, I want you to meet my dear neighbours. They have a bigger car and will help us get our tree home," Cooper beams, and gestures to the trio. "Guys, this is my baby brother, Blaine Devon Anderson."

Blaine tries not to snort at his brother's antics, using his full name and all.

"And Blaine, this is Senator Burt Hummel, his wife Carole Hudson-Hummel, and his son Kurt Hummel."

Blaine is so glad he is quick on his feet, and thus can quickly swallow down the surprise of meeting famous people in the middle of their tree-chopping. Even without Cooper's introduction, he would have recognized the senator. He's voted for him whenever he can, because he's the only person who makes any sense in the White House, if you ask Blaine. He extends his hand to the person standing closest, the senator, and gushes.

"Mr. Hummel, Senator, it's such an honour to meet you, I'm a huge supporter of your politics, and have been following your work with joy and admiration, and truly, thank you so much!"

"No, no, no, we're practically neighbours, call me Burt. But thank you, for your… uh, enthusiastic words. Greatly appreciated," Mr. Hummel (you cannot call a senator by the first name, not even if they happen to live in the house next to where you'll be crashing for the unforeseen future) chuckles. "This is the one you should really be thanking, keeping up with all the madness I bring to the table," he says, and wraps an arm around his wife.

Blaine blinks a few times at the loving sight of the happy couple, before shaking hands with Mrs. Hudson-Hummel.

"Merry Christmas, Blaine, it's so nice to finally meet you, your brother talks very highly of you."

"Do I need to do any damage control," Blaine laughs awkwardly, eyes darting at his brother. What the hell has he been telling them?

"Do you doubt my love for you?" Cooper says, acting wounded.

"No, but I doubt your ability to express it appropriately," Blaine rolls his eyes playfully, and is about to address Carole when he's distracted by a bright laugh.

He looks in the direction of the sound, and promptly shuts his mouth. He already knew who the Senator was, and has been rooting for his unwavering supportive stance on gay rights. He's learned a lot about the man through media, including the reason he ran for Congress at all, and his strong love for his gay son. A son who's appeared at a few public occasions alongside Carole, and always struck a nerve in Blaine he didn't dare to think much about, because that would feel too much like cheating. But now he gets to see this striking man in real life, and that is not something Blaine is prepared for.

"Hi, I'm Kurt, I'm new here," he laughs, and Blaine dumbly takes the hand he's being offered. "I came yesterday to celebrate with my family, and I'm so excited to decorate the tree, I think it's one of my highlights!" he gushes, and looks so joyful and adorable, but still pretty and just… Guh.

"I think Christmas is my new favourite holiday," Blaine manages to squeak out. "If you'll excuse me." Blaine bows politely at them, and then spends a minute berating himself for being so stupid. His feet take him to the campfire. It's not that cold, but it's colder than in LA, and he's sleepy and exhausted. He rubs his hands together to help blood circulation and holds them over the flames. Hoping his show of seeming cold is convincing, he spends some time in his head to analyse what just happened. When did he lose his ability to uphold polite conversation with strangers?

"Cooper said you came straight from the airport," a soft voice says from behind him. He doesn't have to look over his shoulder to know who it belongs to.

"Yes, this was a surprise," Blaine nods. "A great surprise," he adds. "I dressed to sit comfortably in a plane, not for hiking," he says to sell in the whole "I'm just cold, and absolutely not needing a minute to gather my head after making an ass of myself in front of a stunning man."

"I have an extra scarf, if that could help? I always bring too much clothes anyway, I can't afford to get sick, but I have to spare."

"That's really nice of you," Blaine says, "but are you sure you don't need it?"

"Nah, I'm just over-preparing," Kurt shrugs, and opens his satchel to pull out a thick scarf. "My boss would fire me if I got sick, but it doesn't seem to be any rain on the horizon. I'm covered," Kurt smiles at him, and points at his own scarf draped around his neck.

"That can't be legal?" Blaine chuckles, but gratefully accepts the scarf.

"What can't be legal?"

"To fire sick employees?"

"Well, he hasn't said it out loud, but it wouldn't surprise me. I'd rather stay warm than find out. Here, let me…" Kurt steps closer, and adjust the lapels and collar on Blaine's coat, messed up after he wrapped the scarf.

"Thank you," Blaine murmurs, wondering how fire truck-red his cheeks are.

"It's no fun coming home for Christmas, only to be sick."

"Boys, are you coming?" Burt hollers at them, and before Blaine can ask more about what kind of work has such short-tempered bosses, they return to their family members. A man in thick coveralls have joined them, and is holding a dog leash. In the other end of the leash is a big, brown furry Newfoundlander, attached to some kind of flat sleigh. "This is Molly, and she'll help us pull the trees out of the forest to our cars," Coopers explains excitedly. "I should have brought Egot!"

"You guys ready to find the Christmas tree of your dreams?" the man asks jovially, and they all nod and murmur in agreement. "Okay, off we go then."

The man and Molly lead the way, and Cooper places himself between Burt and Carole to talk about… Lasagne? So Kurt and Blaine end up next to each other.

"So, important question, Blaine," Kurt says seriously.

"I'll try to answer," he frowns confused. What can be so important so quickly after meeting someone for the first time?

"Christmas lights: Blinking or non-blinking? Colours or white?"


	6. Fist

I'm sorry for the delay, but I've been gone for a few days to visit my family for early Christmas. I'll do my best to catch up.

December 23rd – part 2

* * *

"Don't you dare!" Cooper threatens his brother, as he runs out of the kitchen after hearing the doorbell. "Kurt! Hi, what a surprise to get a Hummel-visit when Egot is home," he grins, and quite enjoys watching the young man blush. Such an endearing fan!

"Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson, I'm sorry to show up unannounced, but Carole wanted me to give you these," Kurt says, a little rapidly and a little breathlessly, and extends his hands holding a tin box with angels on it.

"Cookies?" Cooper beams. "And call me Cooper, for goodness sake, we're Christmas-neighbours. Come in," he says, and steps to the side.

"Chocolate-chip cookies," Kurt nods, and wipes his feet carefully before crossing the threshold. "Carole and I made them when we came home from the tree farm. Dad won't let us decorate the tree yet, says it needs to acclimate to the living room first…"

"Is that so?" Cooper frowns, and peaks over his shoulder at their own tree, already mounted to the foot and decorated with lights, tinsel and the few bulbs he had. He hasn't really decorated much for Christmas before, but this year is a brand new start, or so he's decided. If only he'd had a caring father growing up, who could teach him things like letting trees acclimate to being indoors. Thankfully Google and Youtube can teach you a lot, it's all out there, but you gotta go looking for it.

"I take it you're also baking?" Kurt asks, and Coopers frowns even more confused, until he remembers the apron, and the flour fight he and Blaine were in the middle of. When Blaine timidly had asked to spend some time with him in Washington, Cooper had promptly prepared a festive Christmas to provide his dear brother with some good distractions. That's why he'd been so eager to join the Hummel's for tree chopping, and why they now are baking in brand new aprons bought online. Cooper's makes him look like a very naughty Miss Santa, and he got it because it's hilarious, he's never dated anyone with as big boobs as he now has drawn on his chest. Blaine's apron is even funnier, even if Blaine had rolled his eyes at it. That boy has no sense of humour.

"Yes! I didn't realize how messy it is, but at least we're having fun. Do you wanna join us?"

"Oh no, no, I couldn't possible intrude," Kurt blushes deep scarlet, and wow, Cooper didn't know someone could have so much blood in their head.

"Blainers, do we need any help with the baking?" Cooper yells.

"Well, I realize you're a hopeless case," Blaine starts to reply, his voice getting clearer as he walks closer, "I guess some help couldn't make it worse," he grins, but stops abruptly when he's halfway across the living room-floor. "Kurt!"

"Hi," Kurt beams, and makes the cutest little wiggle with his fingers. And then he starts laughing hysterically.

"I told you, Coop, it's not funny," Blaine sighs, and tugs at his apron.

"Au contraire, mon frère, it seems it's highly amusing!" Cooper grins.

"You speak French?" Kurt whispers, sounding impressed.

"I only know that one sentence, and whatever they sing in that Lady Marmalade-song. What's that again? Voulez-vous couch…" He's interrupted by Blaine's hand in front of his mouth.

"You can't go around singing that," Blaine groans, and removes his hand with a yelp when Cooper licks his palm.

"If it's good enough for Christina, it's good enough for me," Cooper shrugs. "Come on, Kurt, teach us how to bake. Blaine wanted almond biscotti, and those are ridiculously hard to make."

"They're really not," Blaine sighs, "if you would follow the instructions."

"Some of my best scenes have come from improvisation," Cooper beams, and swats Blaine's behind so he jumps, making the bells sewn on his apron at crotch-height jingle.

"If I'm dreaming, don't pinch me," he thinks he hears the adorable neighbour mumble behind them, but he pretends like nothing.

It doesn't take Cooper long to recognize the chemistry he saw a spark of earlier that day. Blaine and Kurt are working as a team, talking and laughing, and if Cooper didn't throw an almond at them once in a while, they would have neglected him completely.

"I need to make a call to my manager; can I trust you with the oven?" Cooper asks his brother, hip-checking him so the bells jingle once again. It doesn't stop being funny, if you ask Cooper.

"It might actually be safer if you left," Blaine rolls his eyes, but smiles at him.

So Cooper salutes him, and leaves the two of them. He jogs the stairs two steps at the time and throws himself on his oh so soft bed. He should probably call his manager, make some arrangements so they can acquire more tree decorations tomorrow. He could send his PA shopping. Or he could make it a threesome at the mall with Blaine and Andrew. Andrew is the bodyguard who his manager Quinn decided to hire as soon as Cooper expressed his intentions to relocate to Washington to fight for Blaine's rights. _Becoming an LGBTQA-advocate will bring out the crazies_, she said, and promptly started interviewing for a more permanent bodyguard. He likes Andrew well enough, even if he's less scary than Quinn on one of her bad days. Man, she can be powertripping. But he trusts her with all his business, and a lot of his personal stuff. She's also an excellent secret-keeper, said it was something she perfected in high school, and he can imagine her as a popular cheerleader operating all the other students like marionettes. She has a creative approach to truth, making her a perfect spokesperson to the media too whenever Cooper messes up. But she doesn't pussyfoot him, and she would throw a fit if she knew that he went to the airport to pick up Blaine without letting her know and without bringing Andrew. Whatever, he wasn't there for that long, and he was disguised.

Cooper jiggles with his phone and listens to the distant sound of his brother laughing honestly, a sound he hasn't heard in a long time. For the last year or so, it's been a polite, but withdrawn laugh. He goes through everything he can remember ever reading about the Senator-son, and what Burt has told him about him. There's nothing in his memory that causes any red flags, so he nods decisively. He'll have to ask Blaine if he needs his PA to buy condoms when she goes tree bulbs-shopping tomorrow.

* * *

It's late by the time Cooper shuts down his laptop, eyes too tired to get any more sensible writing done. He has a speech to complete, but tonight the words won't flow as easily as he wants them to. He exits the office, hoping the words behave better tomorrow. On the couch in the living room his brother is sleeping, curled up under a thick wool blanket, only a wild bush of curls and a tight fist gripping the blanket visible. Cooper shuts off the TV and places the DVD back to its cover. Blaine has probably seen _The Grinch_ a couple of dozen times.

"Squirt?" he murmurs and shakes the blanket-covered body. "You wanna find your bed? I know you're short, but it's still more comfortable than this couch."

Blaine groans something unintelligible and turns away from him. Even the fist disappears under the wool cover.

"Come on, baby bro, you'll regret it tomorrow, let's go to bed."

"'m tired…"

"Which is why we should call it a night. Come on," he says, and pulls the blanket off of him. Blaine seems unsteady when he gets up, so Cooper drapes an arm around him for support. "Who knew flirting could be so exhausting," Cooper murmurs amusedly. It had been a precious sight in his kitchen when he returned, Blaine and Kurt sitting by the kitchen table with coffee and freshly baked biscotti, talking cozily. His return had apparently also chased Kurt away, as he'd apologized for overstaying, repeating his regards from Carole, and left with a flushed face Cooper thought might be caused by either of the Anderson bros by now.


	7. Ground

December 24th – part 1

Klaine advent word: Ground

I'm sorry I forgot to publish it here, and only on AOOO.

* * *

Blaine is going crazy.

It's been at least six months since he lived with someone, and he'd grown accustomed to living on his own, having some peace and quiet, following his own rhythm, and not taking others into consideration.

He loves his brother, but he also needs some Blaine-time away from Cooper. He needs somewhere he can just think and digest, without facing Cooper hovering around with his various expressions, from worried to happy. Cooper has a big house, but Blaine is still a guest. So when he wakes up earlier than he's done so far for this lazy holiday, he decides he needs to move his body. Crashing on the couch while watching _The Grinch_ probably also helped him get out of bed earlier. He vaguely remembers being led upstairs by his brother.

Because he doesn't know a soul in this city outside this house, he decides he can be careless and undignified for once. So from the bottom of his suitcase he digs out a pair of bright red sweatpants and a black hoodie. A quick glance through the window confirms it's been snowing, so he doesn't dare to brave sneakers for a jog. But a brisk walk in boots should work just fine as long as it isn't icey.

Downstairs Egot perks up at the sight of him, leaving his comfortable spot in the middle of the couch.

"Do you want to join me?" Blaine asks the dog and takes the wildly wagging tail as a solid confirmation. He finds the leash on a peg in the hall, and even remembers to bring some treats, a ball, and bags for the dog's business.

"I know Cooper said his house wasn't far from a park. Should we make a left or a right, do you think?" he asks the dog once their outside and on the other side of the locked gate. He pats his pockets to find his phone to confer with Google Maps, and realizes that he left it in the guestroom. But he's finally outside now, he doesn't want to go back in. "We'll walk to the left and see where it takes us, because nothing has felt right lately…" Blaine mutters, and follows up on his own decision.

It's been snowing quite a lot the last night, and Egot is having a blast jumping in it. Blaine smiles at him, and wonders what it would be like to live life as a dog. As they pass the neighbour house where Senator Hummel apparently lives, Blaine notices a person busy cleaning a car free from snow and ice. And as he gets closer, he recognizes him.

"Good morning, Kurt," he murmurs, because he's too polite not to greet him even if he had planned a morning of solitude. And is woefully underdressed for meeting someone he vaguely knows. Kurt is of course looking put together in a smart coat and black tight jeans. At least Blaine's sweats are an upgrade from the apron the previous day.

"Blaine! Hi, good morning!" Kurt beams, and walks over to him. Egot yaps at him and pulls on the leash to greet the boy. "We get a white Christmas!" he gushes, and looks so happy and enthusiastic it makes Blaine's heart ache. Kurt squats to pet the dog, and coos at his playfulness.

"Someone's excited," Blaine chuckles.

"It's Christmas," Kurt deadpans, as if it was obvious to be this joyful of the season even if you're in your twenties. Which Blaine too would have been, under more normal circumstances.

"So you're braving the snow for some last moment-errands?" Blaine asks politely, and nods at the car almost cleared by now.

"Hmm? Oh, the car? No, that belongs to Carole, but I wanted to help her. Make the car ready for when she has to leave for work."

"That's really sweet of you."

"It's just snow," Kurt shrugs. "Are you headed for the park with Egot?"

"If I can find it; yes," Blaine laughs awkwardly. "I haven't been here before."

"I could take you there, if you want to?" Kurt offers, and suddenly seems a little shy. But he's looking at Blaine with such a kind expression, and there's a little snow shimmering like glitter in his hair, and his rosy cheeks make Blaine want to hug him. He swallows with a little difficulty.

"Egot and I wouldn't want to impose on your time."

"And you won't because I'm offering. I just need a minute to let Dad know, and bring some extra clothes, if you can wait?"

"We're in no rush," Blaine shakes his head and gives a little smile, and watches a grinning Kurt leave with a cute wave and a reassurance that he'll be back within soon. Blaine swallows heavily. Kurt is striking, no doubt about that. He's witty, makes delicious almond biscotti and chocolate chip cookies, seems to care a great deal about his family, wears a lot of scarves, and smiles with his eyes. Blaine doesn't know much more about him than that, and still he's not only attracted to him, but is also developing a dangerous crush. It's a very unfamiliar feeling, and Blaine doesn't know how to deal with it.

Through following the work of Senator Hummel, Blaine also knows that Kurt is gay, they're from an obvious shithole in Ohio, the Senator went into politics because of his son, he talks passionately about Kurt, Kurt has even held a few speeches during the years, which he did with eloquence and charm. Blaine has always noticed Kurt, even if they didn't meet until yesterday. Blaine can admit that he's been jealous of the obvious loving relationship between father and son. But that's not the only reason he's noticed him. His mere presence simply pulls attention. The Senator has managed to be protective of his son's private life, and Blaine hasn't dared to do any googling to learn more about Kurt. That would be too stalkerish. He knows he lives in New York, though. New York…

It's dangerous to feel so much for someone.

"Dad says hi," Kurt grins when he returns with a satchel across his chest and a thick wool hat on top of his head.

"Senator Hummel," Blaine mumbles. "It's a little weird that I know things about the two of you, but only met you yesterday."

"In fairness, I know a few things about you too, because of your brother," Kurt gushes. "What he's doing for the community…"

"Says the son of the Senator who goes to the barricades for said community."

"Let's just agree that we have amazing family members, and leave the politics for now," Kurt grins. "The park?"

Blaine nods his assent. "You seem to be in a very good mood."

"It's Christmas; how can I not?" Kurt tugs a little at his scarf, and leads the way towards the park.

"So what do you do in New York?" Blaine asks, remembering the mention of the boss who'd fire Kurt if he got a cold.

Kurt lights up like a sun.

"I'm part-time costume designer and part-time actor on Broadway," he gushes, without sounding cocky about it.

"Oh my god, how embarrassing, I should have recognized you, shouldn't I? And that's why you can't catch a cold, because you depend on your voice for a living!"

"Relax, Blaine," Kurt says and nudges his shoulder with his own. "This is my first proper part, I'm not exactly on Todrick Hall-level. Yet," he smirks, but laughs.

"So how did you go from making to wearing the costumes?" Blaine follows obediently as Kurt takes a right down the street, and Egot follows almost as obediently.

"I've always wanted to act, to sing, to dance, to perform. So I got into a performance school, and quickly realized that I'm not mainstream material. I embrace my uniqueness, but it can also be a curse. So I minored in costume design, and after a lot of failed auditions and miniscule parts I got a job in a costume department at one of the moderately sized theatres. I had bills to pay, even if I was more passionate about acting"

"It's still amazing," Blaine says. "You followed your dreams and do something you love. So you finally got the grand callback?" Blaine asks, battling jealousy and thinking about what could have been in a parallel universe.

"Funny story," Kurt grins. "The theatre was preparing for a new show and hired a new producer. I had auditioned for him earlier, and got rejected, but he didn't seem to recognize me," Kurt shrugs, and Blaine listens with rapt attention.

"So I didn't say anything, not wanting to make it weird, you know." Blaine nods with him, he would have done the same. "We had to cooperate to prep the costume development. He kept dropping by my office to monitor the progress, and being who I am I would often sing while working, and also dancing if the tasks permitted it. So he walked in on me in the middle of an amazing performance, if I may say it myself, and asked why the hell I wasn't on a stage with lungs like that. So I told him about the first time we met. And he gave me the part and apologized for judging me too quickly. Just dumb luck, really."

"Sometimes it takes a lot of hard work to get lucky," Blaine says quietly.

"That's true, I guess."

"So what are you playing? Anything I've heard of?"

"It's the new play written by Lin-Manuel Miranda, if you've heard of it…"

"Oh my god!" Blaine interrupts excited, "seriously?"

They're far into the park before Blaine snaps out of their mutual Broadway-gushing, and lets Egot go off-leash.

"And what does Mr. Blaine Anderson do when he's not visiting his brother?" Kurt asks coyly, and the butterflies in Blaine's stomach stop flapping.

"Umm, I guess I'm between jobs right now?"

"Are you asking me?" Kurt teases, and Blaine ducks his head.

"No, I know where I am. I just don't know where I'm going."

"Sounds like a vantage point with lots of potential," Kurt says encouragingly, but Blaine only shrugs.

"I have no idea what I'm doing, really. I just knew I needed change. So I talked with Coop, quit my job, packed my stuff, and came here."

"That's brave of you," Kurt murmurs.

"Some would say it's reckless and irresponsible when I don't have a new job lined up."

"Then don't listen to them. You took control of your own life and I assume you do it to be happier?"

"I hope so," Blaine sighs.

"Then I think you're brave. And responsible."

"Thank you," Blaine says shyly. He has been met with a variety of reactions when he's told his friends about this move, and not all have been supportive or even understanding. He can see that Kurt is looking at him curiously, but the boy refrains from asking any questions, for which Blaine is both surprised and grateful. Then again, the boy obviously has manners, and they have just met. It makes Blaine want to tell him more, because Kurt seems content to just listen to whatever Blaine wants to share. And maybe it would be good to get it off of his chest. It's not as if he'll see Kurt again after Christmas, the upcoming Broadway-star is obviously far out of his league. He can use his kindness as therapy without fearing the consequences.

"What do you know of my family?" Blaine asks carefully.

"Cooper Anderson is your brother," Kurt says, sounding a little breathless, but Blaine ignores it. Why should he be jealous?

"Yes, but besides him?"

Kurt thinks for a while, and Blaine takes the time to locate where Egot is running.

"I can't remember him ever mentioning your parents, not even in his acceptance speeches."

"That would be true. We don't have the best relationship with our parents," Blaine says, downplaying it hugely. "Umm, my dad prefers straight sons," he continues, weighting his words carefully. He doesn't know how well he can trust Kurt, and he has his brother's reputation to protect too, keeping gossip out of the public eye. But the way Kurt rests his hand on Blaine's shoulder speaks of compassion, not betray. "So in an effort to appease him, I chose business school," he rushes out.

"I'm sorry you didn't have freedom to be yourself."

"Yeah, well, it is what it is. And considering he disowned me after I graduated, he finally gave me freedom. I just didn't take advantage of it until now."

"Blaine, that's awful!" Kurt stops, and pulls him into an awkward hug, Blaine's arms trapped between them. He manages to sneak them out and wrap them carefully around Kurt's waist.

"Freedom isn't too bad," Blaine eventually sighs.

"Yeah, you seem absolutely overjoyed," Kurt drawls.

"I'm sorry for ruining your Christmas mood."

"Nonsense, the Christmas magic is still around us. What did you put on your wish list to Santa?"

"What? How old are you? Nine?"

"I'm twelve times two, as a matter of fact, but that's not the point. What are your dreams, Blaine?" Kurt smiles encouragingly at him, maintaining eye contact even when Blaine wants to look away.

"Music," he finally sighs. "I want to work with music, in any capacity. I've always doodled on lyrics, plucked out melody snippets, and I love to sing. But I have a degree in business, so… Maybe I could go back to school to be a music teacher. I'm too old to cling to a childish dream of becoming a rock star," Blaine snorts. He has some pipedreams which in a fit of optimism lead him to send in some applications, and Cooper is constantly offering to set him up with some of his contacts – which Blaine has declined vehemently.

"We're never too old to dream, Blaine," Kurt chastises lightly. "You're around my age, we have all the time ahead of us. I'm sure there's plenty of opportunities for you, and lots of ways to work with music somehow."

"And in the meantime, I'm a homeless guy out of work and…"

"Nope," Kurt interrupts him. Fortunately, Blaine was about to tell him the most embarrassing fact of his life. "No more pity talk. Let's build a snowman."

"You really are nine."

"And I said I'm twelve times two, I have twice the childlike enthusiasm. Now come and play with me. Egot can find sticks for his arms," Kurt says sternly, and doesn't wait for Blaine to reply, but takes his hand and drags him off the path to an open clearing with a lot of untouched snow.

* * *

"Where have you been?"

Cooper strides quickly towards him as soon as Blaine opens the door to Cooper's home, and he looks decidedly furious.

"I went for a walk in the park with Egot and Kurt."

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" Cooper might be fuming.

"Worried?" Blaine frowns, starting to feel annoyed himself. Kurt did get him out of some of his funk while building a big snowman, and then a wild chase through the park pelting snowballs at each other. But it's constantly simmering under the surface, and Cooper's greeting turns Blaine sour again.

"I was this close calling the police."

"What the hell, Cooper? I'm 24 years old, I think I can take care of myself."

"Oh yeah? So you can defend yourself against kidnappers? There's a lot of crazy people out there, and some of them will discover your connection to me sooner or later."

"This is insane," Blaine mutters, and tries to walk past his mad brother.

"No, you stay right here until I'm done talking to you," Cooper yells. "Why do you think I have Andrew with me everywhere? You can't just leave the house without letting me know, and you most definitely can't leave without your phone."

"You're the famous actor who pisses people off when you make speeches about marriage equality or funding for more AIDS-research!" Blaine bites back.

"And you're my baby brother. You don't think someone would target you to hurt me where I'm most vulnerable?"

"Oh, come on!" Blaine scoffs.

"No, you _come on_," Cooper mocks back. "As long as you live under my roof, you have to follow my very few rules."

"What are you gonna do? Ground me?"

"Maybe I will if that's what it takes to keep you safe!"

"Spare me, you're not my father," Blaine huffs.

"And thank fuck for that, or you wouldn't have anyone left in your life!"

Blaine might just as well have been slapped.

Wordlessly, he turns around and walks out of the room, up the stairs, and into the guest room, ignores Cooper calling apologies after him, and hides from the world under the covers.


	8. Hiccup

December 24th - part 2

Klaine advent word: Hiccup

* * *

So that's a minor hiccup, Cooper concedes to himself, as he brews a fresh pot of coffee. He didn't mean to hurt his brother, but their argument had escalated until he went too far. Again.

If this had happened in their childhood home, he would have known without doubt that he'd find Blaine in the basement taking it out on the boxing bag. But Cooper doesn't have any equipment like that in this house, and unless Blaine hid it in one of his big suitcases, his own bag is in the moving truck scheduled to show up over New Year.

Or at least Cooper assumes that Blaine has a boxing bag. But what does he know, maybe his baby brother has other coping mechanisms now? To be fair, it's been years since they lived together last. But he could have visited him in his former home in LA often enough to know these things….

Cooper sighs to himself and pours two large mugs of coffee. He prepares them identically, smiling sentimentally at the memory of a very young Blaine insisting on drinking coffee just like Coop did. With a sprinkle of cinnamon, because Cooper thought it made him interesting among the girls.

He places one of the mugs on the bookshelf in the hallway to free up one hand to knock on the door.

"Blaine? Are you awake?"

He hopes Blaine is, otherwise he doesn't want to think about who turned down the volume of the angry Freddie Mercury. Cooper knocks one more, just in case. Blaine opens the door wide, but fills the door opening, arms crossed tightly over his chest and eyes full of hurt.

"I'm so, so sorry," Cooper says with all the sincerity he can muster and offers Blaine one of the mugs as a truce. He's relieved when Blaine accepts the mug.

"You can't say things like that to me."

"I know," he says, placing a hand over his heart.

"Do you really understand how you hurt me?"

"I shouldn't have said anything about our father," he instantly replies, because he knows all too well what a sensitive object that human being is to them both.

"I guess I kind of brought him into it, but yeah, you could have ignored that. And?"

Cooper thinks about what he said when Blaine, what had in the end triggered him.

"And it was wrong of me to say you'd be alone, because I know you have a lot of great friends."

"Some of them are great," Blaine shrugs, making Cooper frown. That's something he'll have to remember to ask Blaine about later. "And…?"

"And… It was insensible of me to mention that you've left Sebastian," Cooper admits. Just because Blaine is single, doesn't mean he has to be lonely. Besides, Cooper is confident that Blaine is better off without his ex. But still, it's uncool to bring it up like that in a fight.

Blaine shakes his head.

"No, I don't mind talking about him. As I've told you repeatedly, we're good friends. It may sound weird, but it's true."

"It sounds bizarre, if you ask me," Cooper says carefully.

"But you never liked him," Blaine huffs.

"That's true, but in fairness – most people end up disliking their ex, not befriending them."

"I'm not like most guys," Blaine shrugs again.

"That is also true." Cooper dares to wink at his brother. Blaine seems to ignore it.

"But do you understand why your words were hurtful?"

Cooper takes a moment to think about it, he's running out of ideas, and so he takes a sip of his coffee to buy himself some time. In his head, he goes through what he can remember of their fight. Even if it's still fairly fresh, his memory is clouded with adrenaline, fear and anger.

"I made you feel like a kid," Cooper finally suggests.

"That you did, but it wasn't my point this time," Blaine sighs, sounding defeated.

"I'm sorry, but then I'm not sure. What did I say?"

Blaine studies the carpet.

"Blaine, I'm sorry that I yelled at you. I was worried. But I shouldn't have ambushed you like that. Please let me know what I said to hurt you, so I can avoid it in the future," Cooer pleads.

Blaine exhales deeply and moves from the door opening. He gestures with his head, so Cooper follows him into the guest room. Blaine sits down on the bed, legs crisscrossed, and takes a huge sip of the coffee. Cooper sits down on the edge of a chair, waiting impatiently for Blaine to explain what's going on in his head.

"Do you realize how difficult this is for me?"

"I understand it's difficult, that's why I'm trying to help you. And I've told you, you can stay here for as long as you need. I have friends in the business I could call for you. I have lots of money, if you need that."

"You really don't understand," Blaine laughs humourlessly, and Cooper shakes his head slowly.

"But I want to."

Blaine takes his time to swallow a new sip of coffee, and Cooper tries to wait patiently.

"I need your support," Blaine finally whispers. "I need you to have my back. I don't need your connections or money, but I need you in my corner."

"Blaine…" Cooper gets up from the chair, sits down close to his brother, and wraps an arm around him for an awkward hug.

"I'm really sorry I made you feel like I don't support you. I think what you're doing is pretty ballsy. I want you to be happy, and I do know you weren't happy in LA anymore."

"Some of my friends think I'm crazy for burning all bridges like this."

"Sometimes it takes a little crazy to be ballsy," Cooper grins carefully, and bumps his shoulder against his brother's. "But does it mean you have friends who understand?"

"They say they do."

"But you don't feel convinced."

"Not entirely, no."

It makes Cooper sad to hear. He knows how important Dalton was to Blaine, and what a tight bunch of friends the guys were. He knows Blaine has stayed in contact with several of the Warblers, and Cooper assumed they still worshipped everything he said and done like they did in high school. Maybe growing up and maturing made them develop independent thoughts, even if it led to thoughtless comments when Blaine is doing major steps to improve his life.

"Hopefully they'll come around," he says because he thinks Blaine needs to hear it. "You have to remember it's a pretty recent development in your life, and to some it must have seen sudden even if you've thought about it for a while. Don't give up on them. And you do have at least one person you consider a good friend."

Blaine looks at him expectantly, as if he honestly needs the reminder.

"Sebastian," Cooper groans exaggeratedly.


	9. Interrupt

**Klaine advent word: Interrupt**

**December 25th – part 1**

**I am officially caught and captured by the Christmas stress, but I will finish this story.**

* * *

Blaine flips his phone in his hands a couple of times, thinking and thinking, until he stops thinking and simply presses "call". The conversation connects almost immediately, and a very familiar voice greets him in his usual way.

"Killer! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm sorry to call today of all days, I hope I don't interrupt anything?" he says carefully.

"Blaine, you know my stance on big Smythe-gatherings and Christmas traditions. If anything, you could have called sooner."

Blaine can't help but laugh.

"My apologies. I've spent the morning with my brother, opening presents and feasting on an endless breakfast. Cooper is asleep with the dog in front of the TV, so I thought this was a good time to call."

"How is Jollywood?" Sebastian chuckles.

"Good. Great. He's busy with his upcoming New Year's Party Extravaganza, but it seems as if he really enjoys being here, pulling strings and using his influence for something important." Blaine paces up and down in the guestroom while he talks.

"He's really changed, hasn't he?" Sebastian murmurs. "He was such a pompous ass when I first met him."

"It's been, what, six, seven years? I think we all have changed since Dalton."

"We're growing up," Sebastian pouts.

"It's inevitable, Peter Pan," Blaine coos. "Oh, and thank you for the Christmas gift, by the way. You _really_ shouldn't have," Blaine stresses.

"Hey, you're my friend, of course I had to get you a gift."

Blaine can practically see Sebastian smirking.

"Would it have hurt you to give me a warning, so I didn't open it in front of my brother?" Blaine groans. That had been absolutely mortifying, and Cooper being Cooper had bothered him until Blaine caved and explained what the prostate stimulator was. "He thought it was something for Playstation at first…"

"Well, it _is_ a play-station…"

"Hear how hard I'm not laughing? I think you blew the definition of inappropriate gifts for your ex with this," Blaine chuckles. To anybody else it may seem wildly inappropriate, but Blaine is honestly grateful. After all, Sebastian does know him, and what he likes. And they have managed to maintain an easy friendship after Blaine ended their relationship.

"I've never aimed to be like everybody else. We do us, and that's that. Thank you for your gift, by the way. How you found a pink, bedazzled lacrosse stick I'll never know."

"The internet has everything," Blaine purrs in the phone, because it had been a bitch to find it, but so worth the hours of searching. "I can't wait to see pictures from your next game on Facebook."

"It'll be epic!" Sebastian laughs. "So, are we gonna talk about why you're calling?"

"Can't a guy call his ex-husband to wish him merry Christmas?" Blaine deflects, and sits down on his bed, but quickly gets up to sit on a chair instead.

"He can. But seeing as I am that ex-husband, it means I know him pretty well. What's up, Blaine?"

"Cooper more or less told me to call you."

"So he has gotten wiser with the years…"

"I'm just…"

"Are you having second thoughts about the last year?" Sebastian says calmly.

"Maybe?" he cringes.

"Blaine, don't overthink it. I know how bad you do with change, but this is change you initiated and wanted in order to be happy. Remember that. Nothing will be fixed overnight, but I promise you, next Christmas you will have a new life and look back at this year with pride because you finally followed your own voice and did what you had to do for yourself. Nobody ever said it would be easy, but I believe in you."

"Thank you," Blaine chokes. "I needed to hear that I have someone in my corner."

"Of course, Blaine. I love you."

"Love you to, Bas."

"Who have you been talking with who's dragged you down into this funk?"

"Umm, Wes said I was insane, David told me to call back when I had sobered up and hung up on me, Nick and Jeff think I have a premature midlife crisis, Trent is as supportive as can be, and Thad expressed worries about my financial situation."

"Give them time, Blainers. You know how they are. And think about who you've been in their eyes. You were the married, responsible man with a quality education and a solid job. You were the leader of the Warblers in adult version. And then we first tell them we're getting divorced, and then out of the blue - from their perspective - you give your boss two weeks' notice and post on Facebook that you're moving to Washington. Try to see this from their point of view."

"But they're our friends," Blaine complains.

"I know. They've been our friends for many years, so they are comfortable expressing their opinions rather than throwing you a parade in blind admiration. Have any of them said they won't be your friend anymore?"

"No," Blaine admits. "They've all texted me after I came here, to check how I'm doing. But it's also clear that they don't understand."

"It's not important that they understand," Sebastian says, and Blaine can visualize him shrugging. "They show support, isn't that what counts? They'll understand later. Give it 365 days, a year, things will look better then."

"You're the best ex-husband a guy could ask for," Blaine murmurs.

"Don't I know it!" Sebastian grins.

"Do you ever regret us getting married?" Blaine asks hesitantly.

"No," Sebastian answers immediately. "It was what we thought was the right thing to do then, and it was great until it wasn't, but it hasn't caused any harm. What's there to regret?"

"But what if it has caused harm?" Blaine says carefully, nibbling on his bottom lip.

"Blaine, are you okay?" Sebastian asks worriedly.

"Yeah, yes, of course. But…"

"But?"

"But what will people think of me? What if I meet someone, and he's repulsed that I'm divorced?"

"Have you met someone, Blainey-boy?" Sebastian drawls.

"No! Yes? Maybe. No. Can't we just talk about a hypothetical situation?" Blaine says frustrated.

"Sure," Sebastian laughs. "So this hypothetical guy you have hypothetically met, he doesn't know that you've been married?"

"No."

"Do you know if he's been married?"

"I haven't asked him, but I recon it would have been in the news, so yeah, I know he hasn't been married."

"Hold on, who the fuck have you hypothetically met, whose wedding would make the news?"

"Nobody. I'll tell you later."

"Okay, okay, so, he hasn't been married, but do you think he's had a boyfriend before?"

"He's 24 years old, gorgeous, witty and intelligent. Of course he's been in relationships, anyone would be an idiot to let him pass."

"Interesting you should say that… Are you gonna be an idiot, Blaine?"

"What?"

"Would it bother you that he has an ex or five, that he has a past, if he asked you out?"

"Of course not!" Blaine splutters.

"So why would it be any different with your background?"

"But I've been _married_, Bas, not just dating someone."

"Blaine. I hate to crush your romantic heart, but in reality it's just a ring and a document that differs a marriage from a long-term relationship."

"That's bullshit. A marriage is…" Blaine finds himself lost for words.

"Yes? What is a marriage, that a committing relationship can't be or have, except the expensive party – which we skipped, because we eloped?"

"I hadn't thought about it like that…"

"Blaine, I know marriage is important to you. But you're not second hand-goods, or whatever you're thinking. We didn't fail, we just grew up and apart. There's nothing wrong with you, or with me. 50 % of all marriages end in divorce, you know."

"But I'm only 24, and already have a divorce, huge debts and student loans, a wasted education and failed career. What a catch…"

"So you're mature beyond your years. Look at it this way, Blaine. You're only 24 years old, you are lucky who found out that this life was wrong for you. You're young and have lots of opportunities to figure out life. You can still find someone to have kids with, you're young enough to go back to school, you're young enough to work for decades with something you actually enjoy. You got out, in time. Think about all the people who live unhappy lives because they don't dare to do anything about it. You're badass, Blaine!"

Blaine snorts.

"Do you feel better?"

"Yeah. Thank you. I got stuck in my own mind. Again."

"I know. So, can we now talk about Mr. Hypothetical?"

"Isn't that weird, to gush over him with my ex?"

"Then think of me as your friend, not your previous husband. And if it makes you feel any better, I can tell you about the club I visited before I flew to Ohio."

"That would actually make me feel better," Blaine nods. Knowing that they are both moving on makes it easier.

"Great, so, you go first, spill. Who did you find, and why would the press cover his wedding?"

"You make it sound like the tabloids would fill dozens of pages. But the serious newspapers would definitely mention that Senator Hummel's son has gotten married."

"Oh shit," Sebastian whistles. "Talk about upgrade! From a big-fish-in-a-small-pond-Smythe-son, to the son of one of the most outspoken Senators nationwide! Talk about score!"

"Nothing has happened. But we've been flirting. I think. God, I don't even know how to do that properly, I've probably forgotten how to kiss…"

"Blaine, we've been divorced for five months, not five decades. I'm sure it'll come back to you. If not, you'll just have to pull that innocent schoolboy-image. You know it worked for me," he grins. "_The only one who could ever teach me, was the son of a Senator!_" Sebastian starts singing loudly and deliberately out of key.

"Classy…"

"Always!"


	10. Joy

**Klaine advent word: Joy**

**December 25th – part 2**

* * *

The family is gathered in the living room to watch a movie and relax with cookies. Kurt can hear his dad and Carole laugh at something on the TV, but his mind is elsewhere. It's relocated to the neighbour house. He can't stop thinking about Blaine.

He's met him thrice by now – first when they chopped Christmas trees, then they made cookies, and last they went for a walk with Egot in the park. Kurt knows very well that he's taken with the young man, and he knows that he likes each new thing he learns about him. He knows that Blaine is intelligent and an interesting conversation partner. He knows that Blaine can be an utter goofball but can also turn shy and silent in a heartbeat. He knows that Blaine is devastatingly handsome. He knows that they have some interests in common, and he knows that he'd like to know more about him. But Kurt doesn't know what Blaine wants. Because sometimes he thinks that Blaine is responding to Kurt's effort at flirting a little, and other times Kurt gets the impression that Blaine takes a metaphorical step back and lowers his personality's volume, so to say. Kurt doesn't know what to believe. It's quite confusing. He doesn't want to make an ass of himself if Blaine isn't interested, but Blaine keeps sending mixed signals. Or maybe he's just shy and awkward? Then again, he could be one of those natural flirts and Kurt is too enamoured to see clearly.

It's Christmas Day – a day who should be all about family, joy, great food, thoughtful presents, traditions, carols and quality time with your loved ones. It should definitely not be about pining for the neighbour, like some teenager. Yet Kurt can't stop thinking about him. It's obviously out of the question to visit today, but he hopes he'll bump into him soon, maybe Blaine'll take Egot for a walk again tomorrow?

Kurt hardly flinches when he hears the scratching on the terrace door, but he's glad they're watching The Grinch, and not some horror movie. He gets up from the couch to let Egot in.

"Hey boy, don't you want to celebrate Christmas with your family?"

Egot spins in a circle around Kurt, whining in excitement, and Kurt chuckles.

"I bet you also went trick or treating for Hallowe'en, if you're knocking on doors for Christmas snacks. Come on, let's see what Carole and dad have in the kitchen for you."

He can't find the dog treats in the cupboard, so he tears off a piece of meat from the leftovers of their dinner.

"You are indeed a very spoiled dog!" he chastises playfully, before giving Egot the treat. "Come on, let's finish the movie, I think the Grinch and his dog were about to return to Whoville with all the Christmas presents." Kurt picks up the dog and lets him curl up comfortably in his lap.

Carole smiles at him, and Burt winks at him. "I never pegged you for a dog person."

"He's cute," Kurt murmurs.

"Yes, they are," Carole almost whispers, and giggles at him. Kurt just rolls his eyes at her. Of course she's picked up on his infatuation with the younger Anderson brother. She'd cornered him after they got their tree, and he's pretty sure he knows why she sent him over to the two men with the cookies instead of walking over herself.

The film is almost over, when Burt's phone chirps to alert of an incoming message. Burt squints at the screen, and snorts.

"Egot, your dad wants you to come back home."

"Will you follow him home, Kurt? You remember the code to their security gate?" Carole asks innocently, and Kurt glares at her. Of course he'd like to. He just doesn't need a wing-woman. Or maybe he does, but not in front of his dad.

"I'll take him as soon as Jim Carrey has saved Christmas," Kurt nods.

Burt nods silently, and taps out something on his phone, before leaving it on the table.

* * *

It's Blaine who opens after Kurt rings the doorbell, but Kurt is too invested in his character, holding Egot up in front of his face and waving his paw while he says with his most silly voice:

"Have you been naughty or nice?"

"I'd like to think that I've been nice," Blaine laughs. "Unlike this little fella."

Kurt sets down Egot, who happily trots into the house, doing a few excited barks with his tail wagging. He's a joy to watch, Kurt catches himself smiling tenderly at the black dog.

"Would you like to come in, Kurt?"

"Oh no, I don't want to impose, it's Christmas," Kurt shakes his head. It's a treat just to get this unexpected meeting for a few seconds.

"Egot imposed on you, it's the least we can do to thank you for bringing him over. It's cold outside, let me make you something to warm up on," Blaine says, seeming eager. Kurt doesn't bother to point out that he stays in the house next door and hasn't really managed to get all that cold on his short walk. If Blaine insists, he's not stupid enough to refuse on principal.

"If you're sure?" he asks, politeness still a tad stronger than his desire to spend a minute more with Blaine.

"Come on, dummy," Blaine grins, and takes his hand and almost yanks him inside. Kurt startles, but follows easily. There's something different about Blaine today. He seems… Maybe it's the Christmas spirit finally getting to him. But he seems more vibrant than he's been the other few times Kurt has seen him. Maybe Kurt really can't say who Blaine is yet, it's not as if he really knows him well enough to read all his nuances. But tonight, at least, Blaine seems happy, cheerful, festive, joyous. And he's dressed handsomely, in bright red pants, white dress shirt, a grey knitted cardigan sitting tight over his broad shoulders but looking soft to touch, and a bowtie close to the same red as his pants. He really does clean up nicely.

"What can I get you? Coffee? I could whip up some hot chocolate?" Blaine offers and steers him towards the kitchen. He's let go of Kurt's hand, but Kurt follows willingly as if he's still being tugged.

"We have eggnog," a third voice joins them before Kurt can reply. "Thank you for bringing Egot, he sure didn't wait for long to be naughty again after getting his Christmas presents…" Cooper beams. "Yes-nog, no-nog?" he asks, holding up a pitcher.

Kurt can feel his cheeks getting warmer when he hears the voice, and he thinks about one of the presents he opened this morning. It had been from Santa Claus, and when he opened it, it was a signed portrait of Cooper Anderson. Who wrote his name with the same twirl at the end of the C as Santa Claus. Carole had giggled, and Burt had just rolled his eyes.

"Thank you, eggnog would be lovely. And of course I had to bring Egot home, make sure he didn't get lost or anything. He would have come home sooner, but _somebody_ insisted we finish watching _The Grinch_ first," Kurt says slyly.

"I love that movie!" Blaine enthuses, "no matter how many times I watch it, it isn't really Christmas before I've seen it again."

"I know!" Kurt exclaims. "It's that one and _Love Actually_. I know the lines backwards and forwards, and I hate the lack of happy ending for all couples, but still, those two movies are mandatory for Christmas."

"I don't know about hate; it's refreshing with a realistic movie, where not all relationships have a forever after. It reflects life."

"No, not for Christmas, I want my happily ever after for Christmas. Sad movies are for the other 11 months of the year," Kurt pouts.

"We can continue the movie debate in the couch," Cooper suggests, and lifts a tray from the counter with three mugs and a plate with almond biscotti and Carole's cookies. Blaine grabs some napkins and the fruit bowl on the counter.

Blaine gestures for Kurt to sit down in the couch and takes a seat in the same couch. There's an entire seat between them, but at least he sits closer by than if he had chosen the other couch or one of the recliners. Cooper busies himself with lighting candles and lowers the sound on the stereo playing Christmas songs.

"I have to make a call to my manager to wish her merry Christmas," Copper grins, and leaves the room with one of the mugs. Kurt looks at the coffee table, where there are two mobile phones resting, in between some teared wrapping paper, and what he assumes are gifts the brothers opened earlier. A couple of books, a bowtie, some candy, cologne, and something colourful Kurt doesn't recognizes without being more obvious in his snooping. So he looks at Blaine instead, who's sipping at his eggnog with closed eyes.

"I love your bowtie," Kurt says. It's made of velvet, and instead of the usual knot there's a golden figure of a reindeer head. Kurt hopes it isn't big enough to scratch Blaine's chin with the antlers. But he loves the style, the surprise detail.

"Thank you," Blaine murmurs, and looks directly at him. "Your brooch is amazing. Is that a unicorn?" he asks, wide eyed.

Kurt looks at his chest, where the brooch is placed on his red velvet vest.

"I want it to be a unicorn so badly, but sadly I think it's just a big ear with an odd placement on the horse," Kurt shrugs. "I found it at a market in New York, but it gave me Charles Dickens-vibes. Charles Dickens with a unicorn," he snorts, and looks again at the vintage brooch, where a horse is pulling a carriage.

"Charles Dickens with a unicorn… You know what? It's Christmas; anything is possible."

"Says the guy who likes that people remain single and sad in Christmas movies," Kurt teases.

"Are you claiming that true love for everyone is more realistic than unicorns?" Blaine teases back.

"Touché," Kurt parries, and lifts his mug in a silent toast.

"So tell me more about New York. How is it to live there, beyond finding amazing brooches with festive unicorns?"

"Oh Blaine… It's a mix of living in a horror movie and a fairytale," Kurt laughs, and Blaine joins him.

"You need to elaborate that statement!"


	11. Kinship

Klaine advent word: Kinship

December 26th – part 1

* * *

Blaine smiles at his phone. Kurt and he had exchanged numbers last night, when Kurt came over with Egot. In case Blaine wanted company the next time he took the dog for a walk, Kurt had suggested with a smile. Blaine has no idea why this is so difficult; it's just typing out a text. But he feels 17 years old again, trying to find the guts to ask Jeremiah out for coffee. He spent the better part of an hour composing the perfectly balanced text to Kurt, partly polite and partly flirty. Because he doesn't want to intrude on family time. He quickly understood that family is important to Kurt.

But Kurt had immediately replied to his text, expressed enthusiasm over getting away from sugar and TV, and move a bit. Blaine wonders what his daily schedule usually looks like, with training, exercise, dancing, movement. He seems fit, at least, not just slender, but with defined muscles in arms and legs. A dancer's body, really.

They meet in front of the Senator's porch, Egot in tow.

"Good day, Mr. Anderson," Kurt drawls.

"Oh my god, please don't say it like that. I am not _the one_," Blaine giggles.

"Of course you're not," Kurt shrugs, and then looks stealthily around them, winks conspiratorially at him, and puts his right pointing finger in front of his lips in a hush.

It makes Blaine laugh out so loud he would have been embarrassed if he wasn't so happy. Mr. Anderson-jokes are usually very old, but this one was new, clever, witty and quite endearing.

Egot seems glad to see Kurt, but is also pulling impatiently on the leash, clearly ready to be taken for a long walk and have his own Christmas fun.

"Shall we?" Blaine makes a little bow, and gestures in the general direction of the park.

"We shall," Kurt answers haughtily, but his eyes are bright.

"You're still in a good Christmas mood," Blaine comments as they start to walk.

"I guess going to Washington for the holiday has been unexpectedly nice," Kurt says coyly, and looks at Blaine in a way that makes him hope uncharacteristically optimistically that he might be part of the _unexpectedly nice_. "Have you started to look for somewhere to live in New York? I wouldn't mind sharing my insights of neigbourhoods, shopping opportunities and outstanding coffee shops."

Blaine's mood instantly drops.

"No," he shakes his head. "I can't think about moving to the big apple before I find a job there. I… I have no money right now."

"That's quite a conundrum," Kurt says softly. "It's easier to find a job if you're actually there, but you can't be there without a job?"

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

Kurt just looks at him, and for a brief second Blaine feels judged.

"It's not that I'm irresponsible with money, but things have been going on that set me back, so right now I sponge on my brother until I get back on my feet."

"I'm pretty sure he can afford it," Kurt snorts, and it makes Blaine feel a little better. In fact, Cooper had offered to pay his rent for as long as he needed, if it meant he could get to New York sooner. The same way that Cooper had offered to connect Blaine to some of his network in the industry to get his dreams of working with music kick-started. But Blaine had adamantly refused, he couldn't stand being a charity case. He messed up his bed, and he'll get out of it too. It's bad enough that he lives for free with Cooper. Right now, his most realistic plan is to find a job in Washington and save up money for six months before pursuing his ambition of living in New York.

He's surprised to realize that the silence between him and Kurt is still comfortable. If it's ever felt awkward between them, it's been Blaine's fault for fumbling with his feelings. But Kurt is a calm and easygoing presence. Blaine feels a sort of kinship with him, for how immediate he was drawn to him and for how much he yearns to spend time with him. It's as if they've known each other before, in previous lives, and their souls recognize each other.

And that is why he decides to share more with Kurt. He doesn't know what they are doing, if they'll develop a close friendship, or if this flirting can lead to anything more when one day he hopefully lives in New York. But he knows that he not only feels obligated to share the difficult things in order to open up and let Kurt get to know all his colours – he's beginning to feel as if he wants to too.

"I mentioned my father, didn't I?" he doublechecks, before starting on this very complicated topic.

"You did," Kurt says, and it's clear from his tone that he isn't impressed with the senior Anderson.

"There's old money to the family name, but of course I don't have access to it anymore. And that's more than fine, I don't want his money, and I've managed well up until now. And I have Cooper, so there's no reason to feel sorry for me," he quickly adds. "It's not as if I have to beg on the streets and live in a cardboard-box. I have a solid education."

"But you hope to make a new career," Kurt says softly.

"Yeah, it's finally time to live my entire life how I want to. I only studied business in the hopes it would make my father happy – I was still young and naïve then, hoping for his acceptance," he says not without bitterness to his voice.

"Blaine…" Kurt takes his hand in his, and Blaine squeezes it in a thank you, as they continue to walk in the park.

"He wanted me to work for him, and I knew it meant he would be able to groom me, control me, tame me, make me presentable. I knew moving from LA and back to Ohio would wreck my marriage too, so for once I stood up for myself and chose Sebastian. That's when father disowned me."

"You're… married?" Kurt gasps, and quickly lets go of his hand.

"No! Was. I was married. We got divorced. I'm a 24 year old unemployed, broke divorcee."

"Oh god," Kurt moans, hands in front of his face, and Blaine has no idea how to read him right now. But his heart sinks and his stomach hurts, because he doesn't expect the more positive outcome when he has alternatives in front of him on the path of goddess Fortuna. "I'm so sorry, Blaine," Kurt mutters. "You had me thinking I had been flirting with a married man."

Oh!

"So… That is what we're doing, then? Flirting?"

"I really like you," Kurt says bashfully.

"I really like you too," Blaine dares to admit. "But I'm terrible with romance and have no clue what I'm doing."

"Just be yourself and let me buy you hot chocolate from that cute food truck over there. That's more than enough for me," Kurt smiles sweetly.

Blaine can't help but laugh in relief. "I think I can try to be myself. But I also need to take this slow. I don't want to screw up a good thing. And I'm not cut out to do casual, so with you living in New York and me here, and…"

"Hey," Kurt interrupts him, and steps in front of him to take his hands. "New York is just a fairly short train ride away; we can visit each other. We can continue to get to know each other over phone or whatever, and you're coming to New York eventually. We'll make it work. But I can do slow. I'm looking for commitment, not just a fling. Let's continue to find out if we're as compatible as I think we are."

"Thank you," Blaine murmurs. "Sometimes I feel like a mess."

"Blaine… We all have messy lives. But some mess clutters more easily than other."

"That's deep," Blaine chuckles.

"I know," Kurt shrugs. "I'm more than a pretty face."

"That you definitely are," Blaine says boldly, and obviously checks him out from top to toe. Now that they have established where they stand, it's easier and more fun to blatantly flirt. Besides, Kurt blushes so prettily.

"So," he clears his voice, "whipped cream or mini-marshmallows?"


	12. Lecture

December 26th – part 2

Klaine advent word: Lecture

* * *

They stroll leisurely through the park, with hands clasped around their hot chocolates. Egot is spinning around like a race car, but never strays too far from them.

"I almost wish we'd met in high school. It could have happened; McKinley and Dalton aren't that far apart. Maybe things would have spanned out differently for me," Blaine admits with a sigh.

"I don't know if you would have been able to deal with the mess I were in high school. I much prefer this version of myself to introduce you to."

"Maybe we need some alternative universe were neither of us is a mess," Blaine laughs humourlessly. He doesn't quite know where his funk came from, but just because they've admitted to liking each other doesn't magically remove every obstacle. And Blaine still considers himself far from a catch. If only he'd met Kurt next Christmas, hopefully his life is much more organized by then.

"Blaine, I know you know about my blue collar background. I don't care that you're out of work now. I'm actually impressed by you; it takes balls to do a 180 like that to pursue the life you really want. You take charge of your own happiness, and you will figure it out, I'm sure."

"But it's not just that," Blaine objects. "I'm a divorced 24-year-old. I expected you to freak out when I told you."

"Why would I freak out?" Kurt frowns. "I was relieved you aren't still married, when you mentioned a husband. But Blaine, why does it matter that you're divorced?"

"Doesn't it just scream _loser_?" Blaine huffs. "It makes me someone who can't commit, someone reckless who makes impulsive decisions, and abuses rights generations before me have fought hard for. For goodness sake, your own dad has worked his ass off towards marriage equality. We know he does it for you. I bet he didn't envision you finding someone like me…" he mutters.

"What? Are you afraid of a lecture from the Senator?" Kurt teases, but quickly shuts up when he doesn't get any smiles from Blaine. "Blaine," he says, and takes one of his hands in his. "Isn't the point of this to have the same rights as straight people to fuck up?"

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaims. "That's a wild simplification! It's not only about having equal rights, but to have our feelings officially acknowledged as valid, to garner basic human rights as respect and freedom to love!"

Blaine stops his spiel when he realizes Kurt is laughing at him.

"But you probably already realize that," he mutters…

"You're actually too adorable," Kurt murmurs, and steps closer. "I honestly don't care about your past relationships, as long as they are in the past. But if it will calm you down, I'm willing to listen to your sordid marriage, and find out if you are… What, you described yourself as a reckless commitment-phobe?" Kurt smiles.

"I really suck at this courting and flirting-thing, don't I? I haven't tried since I was a junior in high school, and that didn't end well."

"Your honesty is refreshing," Kurt says softly. "But I also think you worry too much. I won't judge you, and if I did then I probably aren't someone worthy of you."

"Kurt…" Blaine says gratefully.

"Come on, there's a bench over there, we can sit down, and talk about your marriage, or Egot, or Cooper's latest movie, or why you should wear a different hat to that coat."

"What's wrong with my coat?"

"Nothing, Kurt smiles. "It's lovely and deserves a more stylish hat as the icing on the coat-cake."

"This keeps me warm," Blaine pouts, and pats his own head.

"What? Are you saying clothes are supposed to be _functional_?" Kurt gasps, and Blaine can't help but laugh a little at his antics.

"You're something else," he murmurs besotted as they sit down on the bench.

"Thank you," Kurt preens. "And so are you. And Blaine? I mean that entirely positive."

Blaine scrunches his nose but tries to believe the earnestness in Kurt's voice and eyes.

"Sebastian and I met in high school," he hears himself saying, and oh, so he's telling this tale. It's not something he has much experience retelling, so he'll have to wing it. "He was a transfer, new and exciting of course. He had spent some time in France because of his father's work, and he swept me off my feet with his worldliness and unapologetic no-nonsense," he reminisces.

He sometimes misses the time at Dalton, as popular lead singer for the Warblers, well liked and safe, but yet lonely in a sea of boys. Cooper and he had grown apart as his brother pursued a blooming career in LA, and Blaine was still so new at Dalton that he hadn't managed to develop any close friendships yet. But in came Sebastian and changed Blaine's world, and the remaining time at Dalton was magical. He made true friends, experienced all the firsts with his boyfriend, and built confidence and self-worth.

"I felt as if something was missing in my life. And Sebastian easily and quickly filled that gap. He saw me, made me feel chosen. We became some kind of a power-couple at Dalton. Although it wasn't all that difficult at an all boys-school," Blaine snorts, and Kurt giggles cutely.

"He was captain of the lacrosse team and I was seen as a rock star, so we would probably have been a power-couple in any school. If you ignore the underlying homophobia in our society, of course," Blaine chuckles. Kurt bumps his shoulder against Blaine's in solidarity. "Anyway, he was good for me, and we made each other happy. I like to think that I was good for him too. He had been _dating_, you know, but never had a boyfriend. But he too found something in me which he needed. Acceptance, love, patience. We easily agreed to move to LA after graduation. We both got accepted to good schools, and it didn't hurt that Cooper was there then."

Blaine stops talking when someone approaches them.

"You're Senator Hummel's son, aren't you?" the man asks.

"Who wants to know?" Kurt asks with a neutral voice.

"US Magazine," the man nods, and that's when Blaine notices the huge camera hanging from his shoulder. "Are you on a date? When are you going back to Broadway? Do you have anything to say to our readers?"

"I'm visiting my family for the holidays," Kurt says politely, but Blaine doesn't recognize his voice as his usual warm and cheerful, melodic and joyful. "I'll be back on stage over new year, and in the meantime we took the dog for a walk, I do need to keep in shape," he laughs strained.

"Who's your friend, Hummel?"

At the exact same moment, Egot comes running to them, jumping up on the bench between them.

"This is my friend," Kurt coos at the dog, and leans in to pet him, but abruptly straightens up. "You stink! What have you done?"

Blaine takes in the dog, and he can't see anything in the black coat, except it seems matted and smells worse than when his college-roomie forgot a shrimp salad in their room over Thanksgiving.

"I'm sorry, but we have to have him decontaminated," Kurt apologizes, and Blaine quickly follows his lead, clips the leash on Egot's collar, and they jog away.

"I'm sorry about that," Kurt apologizes. "It hasn't happened in a long time, not since last re-election unless you count the most avid Broadway-journalists back home. He caught me by surprise, I didn't know what to say."

"Do you think he heard much of what I said?" Blaine says worriedly.

"No. The paparazzi from that kind of magazines tend to be more concerned by pictures and assumed stories rather than the investigated truth. The fact that he had to ask who I am says a lot. He can't have picked up who your brother is," Kurt whispers, even if they have jogged far from the photographer by now.

"I guess we should have had this conversation in private," Blaine admits.

"How about we dump Mr. Stinky on your brother, and then go to my place to continue this? Dad's working from his home office, and Carole is giving a speech at a fundraiser, so we'll be practically alone."

Said and done, and half an hour later they sit in the Senator's living room with coffees and sandwiches.

"So, you moved together with Sebastian to LA after high school?"

"Yes." Blaine nods, and tries to gather his thoughts. "Father invited Cooper and me for Thanksgiving, and I asked if Sebastian could come. We had been dating for almost two years by then. But father said no, it was family only, and then under dinner he dropped the bomb. He said he expected me to quit that childish high school-phase, and find a woman to settle down with."

"No!" Kurt exhales.

Blaine nods. "Yup. I was devastated. I truly believed that Sebastian was the love of my life, and I considered him my closest family. So I made a plan on the flight home, proposed as soon as I got back to LA, and two weeks later we rented a car, drove to Vegas and got married. We bought an apartment together and worked hard on our educations. I still hoped that father would come around, that he would understand when he realized we were married. I majored in business hoping he'd appreciate me. But he gave me an ultimatum when I graduated. Divorce Sebastian and work in his company or be disowned."

"So you divorced Sebastian? But you said earlier that he disowned you." Kurt looks confused.

"I didn't divorce Sebastian then. I wasn't going to let father dictate my life like that, and I still believed Sebastian was the one for me. So we both found work in LA, and were happy for a long time."

"So what happened?" Kurt is sitting calmly, listening actively, and makes Blaine feel safe and comfortable.

"We matured, I guess," Blaine shrugs. "We were just kids when we got married, and even if we had dated for two years, I don't think we knew each other that well. Or maybe I didn't know myself. But one day I woke up, and it felt as if my life was a wrong fit, you know when you're wearing socks that glide in your shoes and you end up with the heel by the instep or something? It's annoying as hell, and no matter how many times you adjust the sock, it keeps slipping back to an uncomfortable position even if it's the right size and fit well before it was washed too many times and lost its shape."

"I think I understand," Kurt nods.

"I spent a lot of time thinking, trying to evaluate my life, my goals, figure out what had to change. And I realized that I needed things from a husband that Sebastian couldn't give me. It just wasn't in him. We talked about it, but it's not right to change your personality for someone," Blaine shakes his head. Deciding to end it with Sebastian was almost as brutal as the Sadie Hawkins-dance. But it was the right thing to do and had felt right as soon as it was done.

Kurt scoots closer and rests a warm hand on Blaine's knee.

"I still think you're incredibly brave."

"Thank you," Blaine murmurs. He doesn't feel brave, though. "Anyway, we realized that we are great friends, but our values and needs are different enough to not make it work for a shared life. So I moved out and we started the process for a divorce. I emptied my savings to pay my half of the mortgage for the apartment, so Sebastian could stay there. He loved the place," Blaine says fondly. Blaine had been so excited to be married, he hadn't had a lot of strong opinions about where they lived or how they decorated the place. It was a home, with his husband, and it was more than enough. "We must be one of few couples who promise to remain friends, and actually manage it. He's been great, and he was the one who encouraged me to quit the job I hated and move east for a fresh start."

"He sounds great," Kurt says. "An amicable divorce is as common as a unicorn."

"Why aren't you freaked out over this?"

"Do you want me to freak out?" Kurt says teasingly.

"No, but I expected you to."

"My senior year in high school two of my closest friends almost got married. The bridesmaid was in a car crash on her way to the ceremony, otherwise they would have gone through with it. I have to admit I thought they were crazy for getting married so young – but I had no doubt in my mind that they would make it. So I understand."

"Did they get married later?"

"No," Kurt shakes his head sadly. "Finn tragically died after we graduated…"

"Finn? Oh, Finn, your step-brother?"

"Yeah…"

"I'm so sorry!" Blaine tugs at him until he has got both arms around Kurt.

"I'm not crying," Kurt says muffled against his chest.

"Doesn't mean we don't need a hug right now."

"True…" Kurt shuffles a little, so he sits more comfortable in Blaine's embrace.


	13. Maximum

**December 27th – part 1**

**Advent calendar word: Maximum**

* * *

Kurt frowns at his phone, wondering what to do. He knows what he _wants_ to do, but he doesn't know if he _ought_ to. New York has taught him to flirt freely, but also to find the balance between coming on too strong and showing unquestionable interest. Not that it makes things miraculously easier, because there is obviously always someone else in the picture to take into consideration. What do they mean by their actions? How do they feel? What level is their interest at? Then again, Blaine had clearly said that he liked him, so can Kurt scare him off if he for now lets himself follow the maximum effort-train? Will Blaine consider it a sweet gesture, or a rude intrusion in his life?

"Why is this so difficult?" Kurt groans.

"Those smartphones finally gotten the upper hand on you?" Burt chuckles from his relaxed position in the recliner, with coffee within reach and a paperback novel between his hands. Sometimes he just needs the escape from news, politics, intrigues, gossip and power play. He'd found that some of those fantasy books, as insane as they were, at least provided some nice distraction.

"Not yet; that's your load to carry alone," Kurt smirks back.

"What's troubling you, buddy?" Burt asks, and puts the book down on the coffee table.

"Boy trouble?" Kurt winces.

"Cooper's baby brother?" Burt asks unperturbed.

"We're the same age," Kurt snorts. "But yeah. I think I like him…"

"You think?" Burt chuckles. "The man in the moon can see that you're ass over teakettle for that one."

Kurt can literally feel his cheeks turn red.

"He seems like a good kid. A bit quiet, but polite and with manners. You've been hanging out, haven't you?"

"Yes," Kurt nods. "I think he's a little shy around strangers," Kurt explains, but inwardly giggles, because Blaine had been fanboying so hard over Kurt's father, that's what had made him tongue-tied when they were picking out trees for Christmas.

"For a moment I thought you had your eyes set on the older brother, and that autographed picture of him you got for Christmas threw me off. But I'm pretty sure that he's straight."

"I'm not going to deny that Cooper Anderson is extremely good looking," Kurt exaggerates his swooning. "But there's something about Blaine. He's just…"

"Yeah?" Burt prods after a moment of silence.

"Like, he's hot as hell, but that's not all," Kurt gushes ineloquently. "His smiles, they're just… Everything! And how he listens when I talk, as if he really wants to hear what I'm telling and not just waits for me to take a break to breathe so he can get a word in," Kurt chuckles.

"That's great, bud," Burt nods. "It doesn't hurt to enjoy what the eye rests on, but a good smile is eternal. It's the smile and the great conversation that build a healthy relationship. The body changes and grows beautiful in new ways as you age, and you can have a lot of fun with it, though."

"Dad!" Kurt groans.

"It's true!" Burt smirks.

"No, it's not wh…" Kurt squirms, and wonders if this is payback for all the times when he made his dad eat healthily.

"If it's not fun, then you're not doing it right," Burt deadpans, but his eyes are alight with mirth.

"And I thought that awful conversation back in high school was humiliating enough," Kurt mutters to himself, and thinks back to how Burt had sat him down to talk about sex, protection and self-respect after the pregnancy-scare Finn and Carole experienced.

"You ain't had awkward until you have to give adult Republicans the sex talk in Senate, kiddo," Burt laughs.

"Do I even want to know?"

"It's probably on YouTube or whatever," Burt waves it off. "So, you like his smile?" Burt says gently, and Kurt is grateful for the better direction this conversation can take.

"I truly do. And I admire him for how resilient and strong he his. It's not my story to tell, but I'm impressed with what he's doing for himself now. Not everybody can shake off others' expectations of yourself, and follow your own path to happiness."

"I know he's had a rough past. Cooper hasn't said specifics, but it's easy to read between the lines. It's good he's found someone like you, then, someone who can relate and support him."

"And that's just it. I already feel so strongly for him, and want to do anything I can for him. But I don't know him well enough to know exactly what he needs yet, if my ideas will be completely off the radar."

"You're just like me," Burt smiles fondly. "I didn't need a lot of time with your mom before I knew she was the one, and it was the same with Carole. I fell hard, and I fell fast, and especially with Carole I didn't want to waste time. Go with your gut feeling, son, or intuition. If he's a good guy, he'll appreciate the intention even if it is a hit and miss, whatever is troubling you."

Burt looks at him with that patented father-face, and a part of Kurt wants to curl up in his lap and spill everything that is difficult in life – from clogged pipes in his bath to the smelly passenger on the subway who always insists on sitting next to Kurt.

"There's this thing in the park I'm considering for us, but I don't know if I should."

"That concert-thingy they do every year?"

"Mhm. And there's a limited number of spots, so I can't exactly dwell for too long. I'm wasting time as we speak."

"You don't think Blaine would enjoy it?"

"I think he would. But I don't want to intrude. Maybe it's not his thing, or not something he's ready for. But from what he's said it should be right up his ally, even if it might end up being a little pushy, but I just want to help him…"

"Well, how about you call and reserve spots for you, and then go over to the neighbours to see if Blaine is up for it. And if he isn't, you call the organizers back. There's always waiting lists for that show, I'm sure it won't be a problem if you're quick about it."

"That's actually a great idea. Thank you; this is why you're the greatest dad!" Kurt beams, and gets up to hug his father.

"And still they say Carole's the one with the brains in this marriage," Burt laughs.


	14. Nest

**December 27th – part 2**

**Klaine advent word: Nest**

* * *

"Blaine, will you answer that?" Cooper hollers from the kitchen at the sound of the doorbell by the gate.

Blaine sighs, because he is comfortable and feeling a bit lazy today, but willingly crawls up to answer the buzzer.

"Yes, how may I help you?" he answers automatically and neutrally, because he knows his brother doesn't like to give away his name recklessly; there are some weirdo stalkers out there who doesn't need confirmation about where he lives. He then looks at the small screen of the security camera, and beams.

"Hi, this is Kurt. Hummel. The neighbour's son," Kurt stutters, and Blaine almost coos at how adorably awkward he looks in front of the camera. As if he had needed to introduce himself; Blaine instantly recognized his voice, even if he hadn't already seen him in the camera.

"Kurt, don't be silly, you know the security code, you can come up to the door." After all, he's been over a couple of times already, both to bring Egot back and to gift them with Christmas cookies.

"I don't want to intrude without good cause," Kurt says with a small smile.

"You could never intrude. I'm buzzing you in now, okay?"

"Thank you!"

"See you soon!" Blaine beams, and almost groans, because that sounded just dorky. He can even hear Cooper laugh at him. Oh well. He turns to check his hair and bowtie in the mirror, adjusts his vest, and unlocks the door. And then he opens the door, because it isn't that far to walk up Coop's driveway, Kurt should be here any second. He leans against the doorframe, hoping he looks cool, chill, and maybe even smooth and attractive. He likes to think that he seems taller if he's tilted, because then it's more difficult to assess his exact height.

"Hi!" he grins when he spots Kurt approaching, and waves like the dork he tries not to be. Kurt smiles back and gives him a little wave with his fingers in front of his chest. He walks up the five steps of the stairs. "This is a pleasant surprise," Blaine says, and wonders if he can hug him.

"I'm a fountain of surprises," Kurt preens, locks eyes with him, waits for half a second, and leans in for a quick hug. Blaine doesn't have time for more than a brief hand to Kurt's waist before he's leaned back, but that was without doubt skin on skin-contact, and it tingles not just on his cheek! "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Of course not," Cooper smirks, and slings an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "I'm on my way out, and now you can make sure Blainers here doesn't have to be afraid to be home alone."

"Seriously?" Blaine rolls his eyes.

"Well, we wouldn't want him to experience any trauma," Kurt nods gravely.

"I knew you'd understand," Cooper reaches out a hand to ruffle Kurt's hair, but Kurt quickly ducks away.

"If you want to keep those hands…"

"Truce!" Cooper laughs, holding his hands up in front of himself. "Okay, I'm out of here; you kids have fun." And with that, Cooper is off.

"Let me take your coat," Blaine offers. "May I offer you something to drink?"

Kurt unbuttons his coat, Blaine hangs it up while Kurt removes his shoes, and they both head to the kitchen to prepare some coffee with Cooper's fancy machine.

"What is this?" Kurt laughs happily, when they move to the living room.

"Umm…" Blaine hesitates bashfully. "My nest?"

Kurt walks closer to the carefully arranged cuddle-pile of blankets, pillows and bedcover under the coffee table, with a large tablecloth usually intended for the dining table hanging to the floor on three sides.

"So where are your tail-feathers?" Kurt winks, and acts as if he tries to look behind Blaine. Blaine blushes, and can't but feel joyful at Kurt's attention, even if he's also a bit embarrassed to be caught like this.

"As a kid I wasn't allowed to make those huge pillow forts or forts out of sheets with the furniture, so this was a compromise," Blaine shrugs, swallowing down the tainted childhood memory. "Actually, Cooper suggested it to our father. We'd both rest there, Cooper would read me books, or we'd watch cartoons upside down."

Blaine stops there, not elaborating on how their dad put the foot down and denied any more cuddle-nests after he caught Blaine drawing with a crayon on the underside of the table. But Cooper picked up the tradition again whenever Blaine visited him in his own apartment, and it was something Blaine would sometimes do in his previous home when Sebastian was out. He never dared to share this with him, afraid he would find it immature.

"It looks lovely," Kurt says. "Will you invite me in?" he says shyly.

"Of course!" Blaine splutters. He places his mug on top of the table, and lifts the tablecloth, gesturing for Kurt to enter. "I'll hold your mug," he offers.

Kurt smiles sweetly at him, hands him the mug, and drops to his knees to crawl under the table. Blaine pays careful attention to his breathing and locks his eyes on the mug. He must not spill a drop of Kurt's coffee. Who knows what might happen and startle him; a sudden earthquake or a rhino running repeatedly against the door?

It's a tight fit under the coffee table. It was crowded even before Kurt came over, but after a little shuffling and rearranging of the pillows they end up resting on their sides, face to face, with their legs sticking out from their knees and down. The sight must be hilarious if someone walked in unprepared, Blaine muses. He's rolled up his bedcovers as a long pillow, and their heads are resting on it. They quickly discarded their coffees, deciding this nest wasn't exactly suitable for such manoeuvres.

"This is nice," Blaine says dumbly, because _nice_ doesn't even begin to cover it.

"Are you afraid of being home alone?" Kurt asks softly.

"What? No, no, that was just Cooper being… Cooper. Please excuse him. This is just… A childhood memory and a silly brotherly tradition. Cooper was here with me earlier; we have had some good talks like this. It's comfortable, and Christmas makes me a little nostalgic, and… I know it's silly, I should try to act my age."

"No!" Kurt instantly objects, and briefly rests a hand on his shoulder. "This is lovely. It's sweet that you have that kind of relationship with your brother. And it's important to be comfortable. Aren't holidays invented for relaxation?"

"Some might argue there," Blaine laughs.

"True," Kurt shrugs, and moves to rest on his back. Blaine follows his action to avoid feeling like a watching creep. "You didn't tell me this was also an art gallery," Kurt gasps, and knocks his knee against Blaine's.

"What?"

Kurt looks pointedly up at the ceiling above them, also known as the underside of the table. Where Cooper convinced Blaine to pick up his habit of doodling. _It's not as if anyone will ever see it, but we'll know_, he'd said, and finally convinced Blaine to let go with crayons, glitter glue and watercolour paint. Something Cooper just so happened to have a stash of, quite coincidentally, for sure. Blaine doesn't always understand his brother, but he doesn't doubt his love for him.

"Maybe I'm a fountain of surprises too," Blaine shrugs. He's far from an artist, his creative talent has always been music, so the art is immature. But it's colourful and whimsical, and it's made throughout several years in Cooper's different apartments and homes. Cooper decided they had to have a rainbow theme, so the table is mostly covered in different varieties of the rainbow colours, weaving around in different patterns, made from different material. Some of the glitter has suffered from the laws of gravity and disappeared, but the beauty of this is that they can always add more glitter later. There can never be enough glitter, was obviously Cooper's mantra as an artist.

"I love it!" Kurt enthuses. "It's whimsical, but it seems happy and bright. It makes me smile," Kurt says, and proves it.

"I'm sure that if you offer the right price, Cooper will saw off the legs and let you have the table to put up on your wall back in New York," Blaine tries to say seriously, but he's too giddy to succeed.

"And it comes already framed," Kurt says gravely, and knocks a hand against the wood.

"Of course, courtesy by the artists."

Kurt giggles, and Blaine easily joins him. Then they are silent for a long moment, and Blaine just listens to him breathe. He's been thinking about kissing him, but he's not ready. He doesn't want to screw this up, he doesn't want to move too fast, and he also has a little performance anxiety. What if he isn't a good kisser? He can wait one more day.

"So, I actually came over for a reason," Kurt starts to say.

"You're not here to buy art or test my embarrassing cuddle-nest?"

"For a cuddle-nest, it hasn't been an awful lot of cuddles," Kurt says haughtily. "But no, I didn't come for the art, although it might be what makes me stay," he says teasingly. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something, suggest something for you. I didn't imagine this conversation lying down, but that's okay. We're too tall to sit up properly here, and it really is a comfortable nest, it would be a shame to crawl out just for a question…"

"Kurt, are you rambling?" Blaine asks surprised. Kurt always seems so confident and collected, while now he's anything but.

"…Yes," Kurt finally admits, staring at the rainbow-ceiling.

"You're adorable…" Blaine blurts out.

"Thank you," Kurt murmurs, and shifts so he's resting more on his side. Blaine copies his action. "I have a proposal for you. It may be too soon, it may be the wrong thing for you, but I wanted to suggest it, and maybe encourage you to go for it."

"I'm intrigued," Blaine says giddily.

"Good. Great!" Kurt nods. "So, you've said you want to work with music, become a singer, have a more creative work outlet."

Blaine nods, but doesn't say anything that might interrupt Kurt. This is obviously difficult for him to say, he's usually more direct in his approach.

"There's this tradition in this part of Washington. Maybe you've heard of it? For as long as I can remember since dad started working here there's a concert in the park we went to, every 30th of December. The organizers invite locals and other interested to contribute, instead of inviting one headliner. It's an effort to gather the neighbourhood and also to give lesser known voices a platform. You could call it a potluck concert? Everybody performs for free, and the tickets are sold at a reasonable price, but the profit goes to charity. There's usually some companies who donate money to pay for stage equipment and stuff, to increase the profit."

Blaine hasn't heard of the concert concept, but Cooper hasn't been living here for that long either. It sounds great, though. Going to a concert with Kurt is a wonderful date! If it is a date?

"You want us to go?" Blaine asks, too eager to have more patience and let Kurt speak.

"No," Kurt shakes his head. "I want us to perform there."


	15. Overwhelm

**December 28th – part 1**

**Klaine advent word: Overwhelm**

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Sebastian drawls in the phone. "A hot guy asks you to sing with him in a Hallmark-worthy move, and you didn't instantly jump at it?"

"Well, when you put it like that…" Blaine huffs, and runs a hand through his semi-captured hair.

"Blaine, you're dumb. I love you; you are an intelligent guy with lots of talent, but sometimes you're just dumb."

"Thank you so much," Blaine snorts, and spins around to continue his restless march up and down his temporary bedroom.

"I mean it, Blaine. This guy is basically giving you a perfect excuse to spend loads of time together to rehearse for this concert, and you're not sure if you want it? If you've changed your mind about your crush, it's better to come clean than to jerk him around."

"I haven't changed my mind," Blaine huffs again. "And it's way more than a silly crush. I could really fall for him, if I let myself. And I'm not jerking him around. I even told him I like him."

"And when he suggests something that might be a sort of date, you decline. Sure, no mixed signals there, Anderson," Sebastian chuckles.

"It's not like that. I've told him about you, about my past, that I need to take it slow," Blaine says calmer than he feels. He doesn't want to admit that Sebastian might have a tiny point, and that Blaine has been about to mess it up.

"Yeah, but there's a difference between taking it slow and running hot and cold. I hope you at least gave him a valid explanation."

"I said I wasn't sure and needed to think about it," he hesitantly admits, already realizing that Sebastian won't approve of his answer.

"Wow, such enthusiasm," Sebastian snarks sarcastically. "So, walk me through this. Why didn't you immediately say yes and suck his dick to show your gratitude?"

"I haven't performed publicly since Kings Island Christmas Spectacular. In high school," Blaine explains, ignoring the comment about appreciative blowjobs.

"Bullshit. You sang in that acapella group in college, and we've been to karaoke lots."

"The group only sang for other students, and I was usually inebriated for karaoke. This will be sober, in front of hundreds of strangers," Blaine excuses, wondering why his initial thoughts are sounding less convincing and reasonable now.

"Yup, strangers, living in a city you're gonna move away from any day now. If you make a bad impression, it doesn't matter. But if you give Kurt a good impression, it really matters."

"I don't understand," Blaine sighs.

"Blaine… You said you really like Kurt, and from what you tell me he sounds like a great guy. You've shared your dream with him of becoming a performer, and he's gone out of his way to give you a head start at a local Christmas concert. He is trying to do important things for you, he's making an effort, and you have to meet him halfway or risk scaring him away. It takes two to tango. You don't have to sing with him, but you have to appreciate the thought behind the gesture and be honest with him."

"I'm so overwhelmed," Blaine sighs. "I have no idea what I'm doing," he admits. Marrying your high school-sweetheart obviously does something to your experience with romance.

"So tell him that!"

"Why wasn't this so difficult at Dalton? How did we end up together?"

"Because I was a determined man on a mission, I was a persistent hunter who didn't give up until I had you, and you were much more willing to be swept away then. While now you act as if you want to be in control, but don't know how to do it," Sebastian teases friendly. "Seriously, though, you've done some difficult things already to take control of your life. I know how hard it was for you to quit that job, or to ask for a divorce. In comparison, singing with Kurt should be literally a walk in the park. Man up, flirt a little, be a little bolder, and you can bag yourself a hot boyfriend before this year ends. And for fuck's sake, make sure you actually talk with him. He's not a mind reader."

"You don't know him," Blaine huffs, a little offended by Sebastian's words. Just because they are mostly true, doesn't mean they don't also sting.

"No!" Sebastian laughs, "but I'm pretty damn sure he's not a mind reader, and I would be frustrated as hell if someone was as dodgy as you've been. Meet him halfway," Sebastian insists. "Give him something more to work with. He makes you cookies and asks to tag along in the park and he fixes you a concert gig. What have you done to prove you're serious with your intentions?"

"I…"

"Yes?"

"We've talked a lot. I've told him some really personal things. Even stuff I haven't told you. I trust him, and you know that's not something I do easily."

"But does he know? Does he know it's difficult for you to open up? Does he know that what you share is a gift? Sometimes actions speak louder than words, and can be a hell of a lot easier to interpret."

"I guess you're right…"

"You're damn right I'm right."

"So, enough about me, what have you been up to?" Blaine asks. He needs to process this conversation before he has any more to say about it.

"You're not changing topic to get out of talking with your guy?"

"No, I promise I'll talk with him later today. But I want to hear about your life too."

"Okay, so you know my cousin Benjamin? You won't believe what he did at the Christmas party the other day!"

* * *

Blaine exhales slowly when he's ended the phone conversation with his ex-husband. The one person who probably knows him better than anyone, and contrary to Cooper also isn't afraid to give him a brutal mental shove when he needs it. He cleans up his few items from breakfast, eaten alone because his brother is running errands with his PA and bodyguard, preparing for his New Year's Party.

He makes himself a cup of coffee, and with disappointment notices that they're out of cinnamon. For the sake of experimenting, he grabs a few gingerbread cookies to dip in the coffee. After all there's cinnamon in the recipe. He moves to the living room, stops by the wide windows and blindly watches the snow falling.

Sebastian is unfortunately right; Blaine needs to make some kind of gesture to solidify his interest in Kurt. He has to make sure Kurt knows that his feelings run deep and serious. Blaine picks out his pocket watch and checks the time. Despite of his lazy morning, it's still early, and he has time to whip up a batch or two of his specialty for Kurt. Blaine's cookies somehow more often than not turn out dry and burned, but there's one thing he's mastered even if it's supposed to be complicated. Maybe because he pays better attention to the complex process, or maybe he just has a gift. But he will make his famous fudge, and in the afternoon go over to Kurt and accept his invitation to participate in the potluck Christmas concert.

With an optimistic spring to his steps, he peruses the fridge and cupboards to see if Cooper has all the ingredients Blaine will need. As expected, Cooper's kitchen isn't stocked for this kind of cooking, so Blaine quickly makes a list from memory and solid experience. He briefly considers calling Cooper's trusted home delivery-service but decides against it. For such an important culinary exercise he wants to make sure he uses the very best ingredients.


	16. Part

_**December 28th – part 2**_

_**Klaine calendar word: Part**_

* * *

Kurt is interrupted in his sun salutation by the doorbell. He stretches his arms even further towards the ceiling, standing on his toes, before shaking it out, and goes to open the door.

"Blaine, hi!" he exclaims surprised, and tries not to tug awkwardly at his tank top. He must look so bad, in yoga pants, a snug tank top from his younger days (but at least it doesn't hang in his way when he does yoga), flushed face and messy hair.

"Oh wow, I'm so sorry, you're obviously busy," Blaine rambles, and even takes a step back away from the door.

"Of course not; I was about to wrap it up," Kurt lies. He'd been working up a pulse and sweat through a hard set of squats, push-ups, the plank, deadbugs and crunches, and was about to calm down and stretch through yoga. But he'd rather hear why Blaine came over, unannounced. "Do you want to come in?"

"Are you sure?" Blaine murmurs, looking shy.

"No, I'm only being polite," Kurt rolls his eyes, and grabs Blaine's hand to tug him inside. "Please excuse how I look; I took advantage of an empty house." Before the yoga, he'd been playing music on a higher volume than necessary, just because he _could_ with his folks at work.

"You look…" Blaine says carefully, hesitantly.

"I know that I look like a mess," Kurt shakes his head and laughs. "But I've been too lazy this Christmas and have to start thinking about work and keeping in shape again."

"You must have solid work ethics," Blaine says.

"It's a necessity in this business, Blaine. I won't make it with a half-assed effort. But do come in, we don't have to talk in the hallway, sorry, my brain is obviously not at its best today. Do you have time to stay? I was gonna make an early dinner after this," Kurt gestures at the living room where his yoga mat is still rolled out.

"Oh no, I…"

"Carole was called out to work and dad has a late meeting, so I have plenty," Kurt interrupts Blaine, thinking he knows why he hesitates.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Do you have any allergies?"

"Not food-related, no," Blaine shakes his head and smiles sweetly.

"Great, then you can be in charge of fixing food while I take a quick shower." Kurt laughs at Blaine's startled expression. "On today's menu is a chicken stew from the freezer, so if you could monitor the microwave oven? It's with cashews, so I have to be certain that you can have nuts."

"Nuts and I go along fine," Blaine smiles genuinely, looking more relaxed. Kurt shows him the ins of the kitchen, before hurrying off for a shower, promising to be quick.

He would have loved to have at least an hour to scrub his skin, use a face mask, spend time with the conditioner for his hair, making it look right and pick a good outfit. But he doesn't want to keep Blaine waiting, and finds himself eager to see the young man again. He's not sure what's going on and is still feeling the disappointment that Blaine wasn't as excited about singing together as Kurt had been. But Blaine is here, and that's what counts. He has become somewhat of a friend during Christmas, and even if that wasn't the case, Kurt wouldn't want to be a terrible host living in the shower. It's bad enough that he made Blaine prepare the food.

When he returns to the kitchen, Blaine is seated by the table with a magazine, and the microwave is humming mechanically and lowly in the background.

"I hope you don't mind; I saw it on the counter," Blaine explains, and lifts Kurt's Vogue. "And I set the food to defrost on a slow program so it wouldn't dry up while you showered, so it isn't quite ready yet."

"Of course I don't mind. Did you find anything interesting to read?" he asks, resting a hand on Blaine's shoulder blade to peak at where he is in the magazine. Kurt hadn't had time to read it before leaving for vacation, so he brought it with him to read over Christmas.

"Lots of inspiration to dream from," Blaine sighs, and flips to the pages showing Christmas decorations, before continuing to the pages with inspirational last-minute Christmas gift-shopping. "That scarf," he murmurs, stroking a finger across the picture of a soft cashmere.

"I know," Kurt sighs… "Scarves are amazing."

The microwave dings, and he steps back to find plates and utensils for their food.

"Do you want to watch TV while we eat? I think the Home Alone-movies are running a marathon today."

"I'd love to watch a movie with you later, but first, could we perhaps just talk?"

"Of course!" Kurt thrills, and starts setting the kitchen table. It's cosier than the dining table when they're only two. "What do you want to drink?"

"Oh, let me help you," Blaine gets up and moves the magazine back to the kitchen counter. "And water is fine."

Together, they set the table and make sure the chicken stew is warm through and through and ready to be eaten.

"Thank you for inviting me for dinner even if I showed up unannounced," Blaine murmurs, and lifts his glass of water in a toast.

"And thank you for the nice surprise and keeping me company when I was home alone," Kurt smiles back, trying to keep it a little flirty, and clinks their glasses in a _salute_.

"Are you saying you aren't as creative and courageous as Kevin?" Blaine teases, and his eyes are shining.

"Oh, I'm sure I could have _waltzed_ them out of the house," Kurt snorts, lifts his arms in the proper position, and thrills at the sound of Blaine giggling. "So why did you come over?" he finally asks, because he has been wondering, and he certainly doesn't mind, but he still wants to know why. Because his optimistic imagination keeps providing him with scenarios and alternatives that are too hopeful and too eagerly resonates with his heart. "Did Cooper kick you out of your nest?" he adds teasingly, to show he doesn't mean to interrogate.

"Oh God," Blaine groans, and hides his face behind his hands. "What are the chances you can just forget about that relic from my childhood?"

"Non-existent," Kurt nods gravely.

"I feared that would be your answer… So I came over… to bribe your memory!" Blaine laughs.

"Oh really?"

"Well, not really, but maybe two flies and one stone by happenchance?"

"Well, colour me intrigued, then," Kurt murmurs, and doesn't mind that it comes out so flirtatious.

Blaine scratches the back of his neck, looks intently at his lap, licks his lips, and then looks squarely at Kurt.

"You took me completely by surprise yesterday, with your kind-hearted suggestion that we sing at that potluck concert. I don't do well with surprises," Blaine huffs and shakes his head. But he looks at Kurt again. "And I'm sorry for not appreciating your thoughtfulness, your kindness. You remembered something we had only briefly talked about, and you found an opportunity for me to test the stage again. And instead of jumping at such a possibility, I was rude and hesitant. For that I am truly sorry. So I come bringing a peace offering," Blaine concludes, and starts rummaging in the satchel hanging over his chair.

He places a medium sized, square tin box on the table in front of Kurt. The red box has a lid, and the handle of the lid is shaped as a dark blue bow running around the box like a wrapped gift, big enough to give a good grip to get the lid off. Kurt tilts his head in curiousness, and carefully lifts the box. It's quite heavy.

"I forgot to ask if you have any food allergies, and I hope you don't, but if you do maybe Senator Hummel and your stepmom might enjoy them. I made them myself, but I promise they're good." Blaine exhales, and closes his eyes.

"Sometimes I have this inexplicable bad reaction to alcohol in large amounts, but no food allergies, no," Kurt murmurs, and curiously opens the lid of the box while Blaine snorts at him.

"I sometimes have the same _intolerance_," Blaine chuckles lowly, talking mostly to himself and not disturbing Kurt's investigation.

Kurt's nostrils are hit with delicious smells of chocolate, cream, butter, sweetness and spices when he opens the lid. Inside are several layers of portion-sized treats, separated by wax paper.

"You made me fudge?"

Blaine shrugs. "It's one of the few things I'm confident about making. And it seemed like a better option than cranberry sauce, even if I ace it."

Kurt laughs out loud at that, and easily agrees that a box of sweets probably is a better gift than a mug of cranberry sauce on most days.

"I was never upset with you," Kurt says, picks a sample to taste, and moans as he's hit with the most delicious taste of peppermint and chocolate. He chews it slowly, lets it melt a little in his mouth, but finally swallows so he can answer Blaine's unspoken question in his eyes. "Mmm… If you truly felt a need to apologize, I can only say apology so, so accepted, and keep 'em coming!"

It makes Blaine laugh, and his shoulders visibly lowers.

"I enjoy experimenting with flavours in fudge, so I gave you three varieties. That was the candy cane-inspired fudge, you have the gingerbread-inspired fudge, there's a raspberry fudge. Oh, and the plain standard, of course," Blaine explains eagerly, and it's just adorable to see him excited and enthusiastic. Kurt has a vision of cooking together in the kitchen, finding joy in exploring and creating new delicacies.

"That's four," Kurt says, and tries not to drool in the tin box.

"Math was never my strongest subject," Blaine shrugs playfully.

Kurt inhales audibly the wonderful scents from the box, before slowly, regrettably putting the lid back on.

"Okay, okay, we'll finish up dinner first, and then we can savour these with coffee while Kevin is home alone." Reluctantly, he places the box at the end of the table, out of sight, and he looks forlornly at the chicken stew.

"Thank you for enduring me," Blaine says softly, sadly, and Kurt looks at him with worry.

"There's nothing to _endure_."

"I just wish I could be more impromptu, spontaneous, careless, and not so hesitant to everything. I used to be more careless when I was younger…" he tapers off. "Anyway, I truly hope you got a spot to perform on the concert, and I'd love to be in the audience to hear you shine on stage, a true Broadway star," he gushes, and Kurt can't help but preen.

"As a matter of fact, they did ask me to do a solo number, hoping my name would attract an even bigger audience. They'd probably create more resonance with the neighbourhood if my Senator-dad was mentioned instead, but hopefully the Hummel has some pull regardless. Maybe people will think the organizers misspelled his first name!" Kurt laughs.

"That's great, Kurt! You _are_ a star! What are you singing?"

"Undecided," he quickly waves the topic away. "But you should know that I still have booked a slot for the two of us duetting. I know they have a waiting list of performers willing to contribute, so I haven't cancelled our appearance, you didn't give me a definite no, so I guess I was allowing myself to hope for a day or two more."

"So… It's not too late?"

"No, not yet. If you want, we can introduce this country to your star quality, state by state, starting in Washington the day after tomorrow."

"You haven't even seen me perform before," Blaine objects.

"No. But I see you. There's something about you, something beyond a good voice. You are star quality, Blaine."

"Kurt…" Blaine murmurs touched, stretching his hand across the table. Kurt takes it in his.

"I believe in you."

"I would be honoured to sing with you on that stage," Blaine smiles. He's so helpless to this man's attention and would probably commit murder for him.

"We're doing this?" Kurt asks excitedly, squeezing his hand.

"We're doing this," Blaine nods eagerly.

"Spectacular! OK, we have to decide on a song; I have so many ideas, and we have to split parts, and correlate our outfits, and, Blaine, we have so much to do! Kevin will just have to wait. Finish your dinner, we have work ahead of us!" Kurt rambles off and digs in from his plate.

"Aye, aye, Captain," Blaine salutes, before eating his own dinner with far more mannerism.


	17. Quarrel

**_December 29th – part 1_**

**_Klaine calendar word: Quarrel_**

* * *

"Kurt! Come here, will you!" his father hollers from the doorway. Curiously, he leaves the kitchen without setting down the red tin box first.

"What is it?" he hollers back, as he approaches the entrance door.

"You've got a visitor," the older Hummel says in a more appropriate volume. "Hey, fudge, don't mind if I do," he says, and helps himself to a few pieces from the box. "They are really something, kiddo," he grins, and nods at the young man standing in the doorway.

"Thank you, Senator Hummel," Blaine murmurs, almost whispers.

"No need for that, call me Burt," the man says calmly.

"Blaine, hi!" Kurt beams at their guest. "Fudge?" he extends the box towards Blaine.

"No, thank you," he says politely, but there's something in his voice and in his eyes. "Hey dad," Kurt says instantly, "Blaine and I'll be in my room rehearsing for tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure thing. Looking forward to see the two of you perform," he says and heads for the living room, carefully balancing the fudge squares in his open palm.

"Come on," Kurt smiles sweetly at Blaine, and nods in the direction of the stairs to get away from his dad.

He still has the box of fudge in his hand when they get to his room, and he places it carefully on the nightstand, making a mental note of putting on the lid and placing it in the fridge for better keeping later.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asks carefully and takes in the young man in front of him. His hunched shoulders, his eyes looking at nothing and yet never meeting Kurt's, hands in tight fists, and lips clenched shut.

"Of course. Let's rehearse," Blaine nods quickly, repeatedly. He isn't convincing, but Kurt isn't sure how much he can push, their friendship is still so young.

"We sounded really great yesterday; I honestly don't think we need much more practice."

"Says the Broadway-star," Blaine grins a little too cheerfully. "I don't want to make you look bad."

"You could never. But we can run through it again if it'll make you feel better," Kurt offers, and touches the pad to awaken his laptop from its slumber to find the instrumental version of the song they're doing. He gestures for Blaine to begin.

It quickly becomes obvious that Blaine isn't himself. He's not the same person as he was yesterday, when they first sang together. Today, he's stumbling over lyrics, he's forgotten some of the choreography, and there's just no heart in his performance. Kurt stops the music before the song is even over.

"You know you can talk with me about anything? I'd like to think we've become friends," Kurt says carefully.

"Of course we're friends!" Blaine rushes out and takes two long steps towards Kurt and quickly grabs his hands in his own for a brief moment before letting go again. "I'm sorry I'm distracted, and I understand if you don't want to sing with me tomorrow."

"After you showed me what you can yesterday, I'm not gonna let you off so easily," Kurt smiles gently. "But maybe you'll feel less distracted if you get it off of your mind, whatever is bothering you."

"Maybe…"

"I don't intend to force you, it's just a friendly offer," Kurt shrugs, and sits down on his bed, trying not to take Blaine's hesitance personally. They don't know each other that well yet.

"And I appreciate it," Blaine nods. "You're too kind."

It's not the warmest compliment Kurt's ever gotten, and his heart aches for Blaine's obvious distress.

"Sit down and relax a little," Kurt pats the duvet next to him. "You should try this fudge, it's made by a true master," he quips, and leans back to pick up the tin-box from the nightstand.

"You don't say," Blaine chuckles awkwardly, and blushes a little. He pops a square of fudge in his mouth, and moans exaggeratedly, winking playfully, but it seems put upon to Kurt.

"Why did you come over, Blaine? We talked about meeting to coordinate outfits this afternoon, and…" he leans over to get his phone out of his tight pocket and checks the time. "…at 11:42 it's not afternoon by any definition, at least not in this time zone."

"I had to get out of the house," Blaine wheezes out, with more air than voice. "Cooper was on the phone, umm, with our father?"

"Oh," Kurt exhales, and rests a hand on Blaine's knee. "Important conversation?"

"More like a heated exchange of opinions. A loud, rude, crude, invasive, offensive quarrel, to be honest. I could hear them both easily from downstairs. That kind of phone call."

"I'm sorry," Kurt murmurs softly, and rubs a thumb along Blaine's knee.

"Not your fault," Blaine mutters, and stares in the direction of Kurt's moving finger.

"I didn't think you guys were in touch with your father," Kurt says carefully, because he's gotten a certain impression of the Anderson family-dynamics, but there's still a lot he doesn't know.

"We're not. But he wanted an invitation to Cooper's New Year's party. Too many hotshots invited to keep him away," Blaine snorts.

"Is he… Coming?" Kurt asks carefully.

"If he is, I'm not," Blaine says with a clipped voice.

"Does Cooper want him there?" Kurt frowns.

"No," Blaine shakes his head.

Kurt moves his hand from Blaine's knee to wrap around his shoulders and pull him close. Blaine sinks in closer and rests his head on Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt listens to him breathe slowly, feels Blaine's chest move against his body, and lets him be. He has to remind himself that he can't just kiss Blaine's temple or do any of the other things he'd like to do to comfort him further.

Blaine inhales slowly, exhales deeply, and eventually sits up straight, looking embarrassed. Kurt drops his arm to his own lap.

"Cooper and you don't really look much alike," Kurt says after a few seconds, hoping it'll deflate the awkwardness. He smiles sadly at himself, thinking about his own brother, brother in name if not in blood, and how little they looked like each other. Families come in so many shapes, and Finn left a big hole when he passed away; a brother with Hummel-genes wouldn't have made a bigger impact.

"I'm his half-brother," Blaine shrugs. "And no height jokes!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Kurt smiles innocently. "So… Same father, then?"

"And different moms," Blaine nods.

"Are they… Do you…" Kurt doesn't know how to continue the sentences delicately, because he is all too aware how sensitive the topic of parents can be.

"Cooper's mom divorced our father and moved to Canada to start a new life there when he was around four or five. Coop's met with her a couple of times when he's been filming there, but they're not really often in touch. I'm not even sure if her new family knows about him. But Cooper says it's okay. He doesn't really remember her as his mother, she's just this lady acquaintance he can't flirt with," Blaine snorts, and Kurt chuckles.

"And your mom?" Kurt asks carefully.

Blaine sighs deeply and hides his face in his hands for a long moment, but when he looks up his eyes are dry.

"When Cooper's mother left, father needed help with him," Blaine says with a lowered voice, as if he's sharing a secret with Kurt. "So," he coughs to clear his voice, and licks his lips. Kurt wishes he had some water to offer him, but he doesn't want to leave in the middle of Blaine confiding in him. "Yeah, so he hired an au-pair to take care of Cooper, dumping everything on her to focus on his business. He's never been much of a father figure," Blaine huffs, and shakes his head. "And as it turned out, he saw more to the au-pair than he did his own son. The inevitable had to happen. He sent her back to the Philippines as soon as she'd given birth, hired a live-in nanny in her late 60s, probably picking someone older to avoid knocking her up too, and that was the first and last time I saw my mom. If you can really say I ever did…"

"Blaine…"

"You can't really miss someone you've never known," Blaine shrugs, blinking repeatedly.

"Of course you can – she's your mom!" Kurt takes Blaine's hand in his. "Do you know how to… Where… What…" Kurt shrugs in lieu of a sensitive question.

Blaine swallows, but looks up from their joined hands.

"I have a name," he whispers. "I got some papers with info when I turned 18. But there are too many with her name on Facebook, and she's probably married, so I don't know…"

Kurt weaves their fingers together, and maintains calm eye contact, cherishing that Blaine is sharing this with him, but wishing he could do something to ease Blaine's obvious heartache.

"To be honest, I don't think about her every week or anything like that. Sometimes I think I miss the idea of a mom more than anything else, and it was much worse when I was a kid. I'm supposed to be a grown-ass man now, they don't need their mommies," he almost spits. "I'm curious about her, but also scared. Maybe she doesn't even want anything to do with me. She hasn't tried to find me – it should be easier for her than for me."

"If she knew how amazing you are, she'd be there for you in a heartbeat," Kurt gives Blaine's fingers a squeeze.

"You're sweet," Blaine murmurs. "Anyway, I've been lucky and found family in other places. The Warblers will always be my brothers, I was welcomed by my in-laws as well as I could have hoped for, Cooper is the most important person in my life, and it seems as if I'm one of few who manages to remain friends with his ex-husband. I'm not lonely, Kurt."

"Doesn't mean you can't want an even bigger family."

"I've hardly ever told anyone this. But there's something about you, Kurt." Blaine leans in a little closer, and Kurt squeezes their linked hands, hoping he'll interpret it as a sign to go on. On reflex, Kurt licks his lips in preparation, and Blaine leans in even further.

"Kurt! Is Blaine staying for dinner?" Burt hollers suddenly.

"Senator Hummel!" Blaine whispers loudly and jumps up from the bed wide-eyed.


	18. Reasonable

**December 29th – part 2**

**Klaine calendar word: Reasonable**

**I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but it's about time to wrap up last year's Advent calendar :p**

* * *

Senator Hummel had left the house to run errands after informing them he'd probably be gone for a few hours. Blaine still felt awkward and wrong in his skin being in Kurt's room, though. If he could know for certain that Cooper was off the phone, he would have gone home. But he knew from experience that those phone calls between father and son could take some time, as they were both stubborn and intent on reasoning with the other. As far as Blaine's considered the topic, their father is probably the most unreasonable guy on this planet, but he loves Cooper for still trying to make the man see the non-bigoted light.

Fortunately, Kurt must have an exquisite Blainedar, and had offered they watch a movie in the living room, _"where the better TV is"_, before Blaine could say anything. Kurt had also offered Blaine veto-rights, although Blaine wasn't all that surprised to learn that they had a lot of shared favourites. Blaine had felt like something sad for his current mood, hoping it would kick him out of his funk, and had suggested _Rent_. He doesn't particularly enjoy being moody like this around people, but the alternative will not improve his mood at all. And he knows he can't stomach anything comedic or romantic right now. So _Rent_ it was, and Kurt had easily agreed.

Blaine's tears fall before Roger finishes singing "_One Song, Glory_".

Kurt doesn't say anything, but shuffles carefully so he can rest a hand on Blaine's shoulder blade. It's warm and comforting, and his thumb is rubbing soothing circles. Blaine cries silently. He cries for the mom he doesn't have and the father he has, he cries for missed opportunities and wasted chances, he cries for the limbo his life has become, and he cries from exhaustion.

It feels therapeutic.

He's somehow sunk a little down in the couch by the time they sing "_Will I?_", and the couch is dipping him a tad closer to Kurt. Kurt, who has stretched his arm out to rest along the back of the couch, his fingers scratching at the nape of Blaine's hair. Blaine bends his head a little forward at the touch, baring his neck, and his skin is sizzling with electricity under Kurt's pads.

When Angel and Collins emerge up from the subway, Kurt lets out a soft whine, and Blaine looks up at him with wet, questioning eyes.

"I just really love this song," Kurt murmurs softly, sounding apologetic.

"It's an amazing song," Blaine whispers hoarsely, and awkwardly dries his tears.

"Do you want something to drink?" Kurt asks hoarsely when the song is over.

"Maybe some water, but I can get it," Blaine offers.

"No, no, please sit. _I'll cover you_," Kurt smiles impishly at him, and Blaine blushes.

He returns with two cold bottles of water and a pack of paper towels.

"_To La Vie Bohème_," Blaine sings and clinks their bottle necks together.

"I can't believe I used to sing that in front of my dad when I was a kid. That is a very naughty song," Kurt giggles.

"_Mucho masturbation_ didn't clue you in on that?"

"I'm an innocent boy," Kurt replies, chewing his lower lip and looking at Blaine through his eyelashes. It gives Blaine goosebumps and shivers.

"Are you, now?" Blaine manages to murmur.

Kurt smiles, but doesn't say anything, and adjusts in his seat to watch Mimi and Roger share their first kiss.

"My friends and I sang this together when my brother died," Kurt whispers soon after. Blaine decides to be bold and takes Kurt's hand in his. Kurt laces their fingers together.

During Angel's funeral, they are both crying silently, hands clutched together.

When the movie is over, they're both silent for a long moment.

"Feeling better?" Kurt eventually asks softly.

"Yeah," Blaine exhales. "Thank you."

They sit in comfortable silence, just sharing glances in between their own thoughts. Blaine considers leaning in to get that first kiss from Kurt, but a bigger part of him wants to make it special – or at least he wants it to happen when his face doesn't look like it does when he's been crying.

Kurt's phone rings before he can make up his mind, and Kurt disappears to answer it in private. Blaine takes the opportunity to dry the last tears and blow his nose loudly with the paper towels Kurt provided earlier. This has been cathartic.

"It was my dad," Kurt explains as he returns. "Carole and he should be here in 15 minutes, he called to check if we needed anything from the store. He's terrible at writing shopping lists," Kurt chuckles. "He also told me to inform you that he had invited your brother over for dinner too."

"That's really nice of the Senator," Blaine says with gratitude in his voice.

"No big deal, from what I understand Cooper eats here at least once a week. I think maybe they have adopted him, empty nest-syndrome, you know," Kurt laughs.

"Well, you are quite irreplaceable," Blaine boldly flirts, and enjoys the delighted look on Kurt's face.

Kurt licks his lips and swallows audibly.

"I'm gonna start on dinner. Do you want to help?"

"Yeah, sure. I should clean up first, though," Blaine says a bit embarrassed.

Kurt shows him the bathroom, and even picks out two different washcloths for him, one soft and one harsher.

When Blaine returns to the kitchen, Kurt's decked out various ingredients on the kitchen counter, and put on the oven.

"We're having healthy pizza. It's a compromise between my dad and I," Kurt explains. "He gets some melted cheese, but there are lots of veggies and the dough is made on oatmeal. I know it sounds weird, but I promise it's actually delicious," Kurt says. "You just have to ignore your usual expectations to pizza."

"Sounds intriguing," Blaine nods. "What can I do to contribute?"

Kurt sets him on chopping chili pepper-duty, while he throws together a green salad.

"Dad is buying most of the ingredients we need, but we can start with what we already have in the house."

They work diligently in comfortable silence, until they hear the rumble of a car entering the driveway. Then there's a flurry of greetings, shopping bags and winter clothes being removed and hung up.

Soon after, Cooper prances through the door with a box in his hands.

"I hope you can forgive me for being early, Carole, but I missed you!" Cooper flirts mercilessly, and Carole grins at him, giving him a half-hug to not squish the box.

"You're always welcome here. Did you bring dessert again? You're spoiling us," she tuts, and relieves him of the box.

"I hope you all like cheesecake," Cooper beams with glimmering eyes.

"So much for healthy pizza," Blaine snorts under his breath next to Kurt.

"Cheesecake is a dairy product, and it has calcium and important minerals," Kurt whispers eagerly.

"If you say so," Blaine grins amused. He thinks he learned something new and important about Kurt from that sentence alone.

Burt ropes everyone into different tasks to get some progress.

"I promised dinner, so I'll make the pizza. Cooper will help me. Kurt and Blaine, may you set the dining table? And if Carole fixes us all something to drink?"

They all do as instructed, and thanks to Kurt the oven is preheated. Within 35 minutes the dinner is ready, and they all sit down by the table.

"Wow, this tastes amazing, Senator Hummel, I hope you will share the recipe?" Blaine gushes.

"Of course, I'll write it down for you, or maybe you can just take a picture with your phone. If your phone can take pictures? I know not all phones do that."

"Not all phones bought last millennium, no, that's true", Kurt teases.

"Thank you, Senator," Blaine murmurs awkwardly.

"Burt," the Senator says, and Blaine frowns in confusion. "No need to be so formal, drop the Senator-thing, it's just Burt."

"But Senator Hummel!" Blaine objects, and the man raises his eyebrows in a questioning manner that is eerily similar to something Kurt's done earlier. "Mmm… Mister Hummel?"

"No Senator, and no Mister, Blaine. So what you're gonna call me, huh?"

"Your majesty," Blaine blurts out. Kurt spits out what he was drinking, Cooper laughs so hard he kicks Blaine under the table, Carole hides the lower half of her face behind a napkin, and Burt just looks at him with a mix of amusement and confusion.

"Well…" he says. "It would be easier in the Senate if I could dole out royal decrees. Although I guess they don't have senates in a monarchy. Or stupid presidents. You didn't hear me say that," he quickly adds and winks.

"Does this make me a prince?" Kurt asks pleased.

"Sure, kiddo," Burt nods amused.

"Yes!" Kurt hisses out, and Blaine can't help but laugh. God, he's adorable!

"Should we wait with the lovely cake Cooper brought until the pizza has sunk a little?" Carole suggests. "We could have coffee and cake in the couch later?"

They all easily agree.

"Maybe Blaine and Kurt could give us a preview of tomorrow's concert?" Cooper suggests, and Blaine instantly objects. "You should have at least one run-through with some kind of audience," Cooper insists.

"That… Sounds reasonable," Blaine nods, "but won't it spoil tomorrow for you?"

Kurt nods next to him.

"Well, let's show them how it's done," Cooper says, enthusiasm unfaltering. "Do you remember our Duran Duran-moves?"

"Of course," Blaine snorts, and doesn't miss Kurt's curious look.

"Sweet! Now drop the cardigan and let's see what you've got!"


End file.
